


now it's over. now i'm awake.

by pyroallerdyce



Series: dependable people and things that i'm sure of. [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bartenders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family Reunions, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gay Bar, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Getting to Know Each Other, HIV/AIDS, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Violence, Implied/Refernced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lesbian Character, M/M, Major Character Injury, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Novel, Prostitutes, Recreational Drug Use, Restaurants, Slow Burn, Teenagers, Waiters & Waitresses, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyroallerdyce/pseuds/pyroallerdyce
Summary: It was raining, and somehow, in the midst of the worst night of his life, Charles couldn't help but think that it was poetic justice. He'd given up trying to find a place to duck under until the rain stopped, and instead was leaning up against a lamppost, shifting his weight when a sudden, sharp jolt of pain radiated through his side.“Great,” he muttered to himself, pulling up the thin sheer of his shirt to get a better look at the deep purple bruise that was forming across his ribs. The trick had hit him hard enough that a couple of those ribs were probably broken, and that was really the last thing he needed because he didn't have enough money for the rent, let alone a trip to the clinic for some x-rays.or: Charles is a prostitute. Erik tries to help him out. Eventually, Charles accepts the help and then everything is different.**REPOST**
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: dependable people and things that i'm sure of. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776067
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took this down because the end is kinda a cliffhanger and I never finished the sequel, but someone asked me to put it back up. so it's reposted by request.

It was raining, and somehow, in the midst of the worst night of his fucking life, Charles couldn't help but think that it was poetic justice. He'd given up trying to find a place to duck under until the rain stopped, and instead was leaning up against a lamppost, shifting his weight when a sudden, sharp jolt of pain radiated through his side. 

"Great," he muttered to himself, pulling up the thin sheer of his shirt to get a better look at the deep purple bruise that was forming across his ribs. The fucking trick had hit him hard enough that a couple of those ribs were probably broken, and that was really the last fucking thing he needed because he didn't have enough money for the rent, let alone a trip to the clinic for some x-rays. He ran his hands through his wet hair and glanced around, trying to figure out where the fuck the asshole had dumped him out of the car. It wasn't his usual area, that was for sure, and fuck if he knew his way around any part of New York City that wasn't his usual. He wondered if he would be able to find another client in the area because...

"Fuck!" His hands immediately went to his pockets and quickly searched through them, letting out a scream of frustration when both turned up empty. So not only had he been lured into that fucker's car with the promise of five hundred just to get the shit kicked out of him, but the asshole had robbed him too. And that had been a thousand, and he owed that to Cain for the drugs, and fuck, that meant Cain was going to kick the shit out of him too.

"How much?"

Charles spun around at the words and blinked the droplets out of his eyelashes. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, did I get that wrong? Because I assumed that you were..."

Charles looked around quickly and then grabbed the man by the elbow, pulling him over to the closest building. He stared at him for a moment before deciding that he could probably raise the rates and still get this one. "Three fifty for a blowjob, seven for a fuck."

The man looked him up and down before frowning, his hand reaching out towards the bruise. "Hey, are you alright? Because that looks..."

"Fine," Charles spat out, wrapping his arms around his waist and ignoring the pain that shot through him. "Look, you interested or not?"

"You're bleeding," the man said calmly, and the news shocked Charles enough to let the man pull his arms away and get a better look at what he'd thought was just a bruise. "I've got a place just a block from here. It's a business that's not open yet and so there's no one else there, but there are bandages there and I think you could really use some."

"I need the money more," Charles groaned as he shook his head, stumbling away from the building and back towards the lamppost. He could feel the man watching him and resisted the urge to scream, glancing down at his side to see just how badly he was bleeding. And fuck, how had he not noticed all of the blood before?

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked behind him, seeing the same man staring back at him. "How much for the night?"

"Look, buddy," he began, but the man just shook his head.

"You need some help and if I have to pay you to get that help, then that's what I'll do. I'm sure I can find some way to get my money's worth out of this." The man glanced down the street at the sound of a siren before looking back at Charles. "Come on, you're going to get arrested if you stand here for much longer. How much?"

A shiver went down Charles's spine at the siren and he did some quick math in his head. "Two thousand."

"Do you take checks?" the man joked, wrapping his fingers around Charles's elbow and pulling him in the opposite direction of the siren. "We'll have to stop at an ATM at some point tonight because I'm pretty sure I don't have that much cash."

Charles looked around as they walked up to a door, taking in the name of the place just in case he needed to remember it. "Station Thirty? What the fuck kind of place is this?"

"It was Station Thirty," the man said, sliding a key into the lock and pulling the door open. "Starting next week, it will be Genosha, the place to be for gay nightlife in this town. I hope."

Charles breathed a sigh of relief as the man shut and locked the door behind them. "Gay nightlife? So you really do want to fuck then?"

"I did until I saw that wound," the man said, tossing his keys on the counter and leading him towards the back. "We've got to get that cleaned up. What happened?"

"The last guy kicked the shit out of me," Charles mumbled, blinking rapidly when a light suddenly filled the room. "Stole all the money I'd made tonight too."

The man ducked into a small room and started searching through cabinets. "Does that happen often?"

"No, thank fuck," Charles said, glancing around. This doesn't look like a nightclub."

"This is the restaurant. The club's in the basement." The man stuck his head out of the room and smiled at him. "Hey, you ever want a real job, just stop by and let me know, okay? Between the restaurant and the club, I'm sure we could find a place for you."

Charles blinked again. "You just hired me to be your whore for the night and now you're offering me a job? Who the fuck are you?"

"A crazy fool who believes in humanity and second chances," the man said, walking back into the room with a box of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic in his hands. "I'm Erik. You?"

Charles hesitated. "Christian."

Erik stared at him before shaking his head. "Alright, I'll let you get away with the fake name tonight, but if you come back for the job, I want your real one."

"How'd you know it was fake?" Charles asked, carefully pulling his shirt up and over his head.

Erik smiled. "You don't look like a Christian. Now, let's get that bandaged up, okay? And then, are you hungry? You look like you barely eat. There's plenty of stuff in the kitchen. I could fix us something."

Charles looked up at Erik and saw what he thought was concern in the man's eyes, and for some reason, he allowed himself to believe it was genuine. "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Erik."

**********

Charles swallowed hard before knocking at the door three times, then counting to five before kicking at the bottom of the door twice. He had no excuse for being gone for the past week and Cain was probably going to beat the shit of him until he told him the truth, something he was never, ever going to do. But he had a plan and he could do nothing more than pray it would work.

The door opened a crack and someone whose name Charles still didn't know glanced at him before looking back into the apartment. "Xavier finally washed up," he droned, bringing his gaze back to Charles. "Looks like he's been sleeping somewhere pretty."

The door swung fully open a few minutes later, Cain shoving the man out of the way. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"I know I was gone a long time and I'm sorry," Charles said quickly. "Some stupid trick kicked the fuck out of me and I needed time to recover."

"You got the money you owe me?"

Charles stuck his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "No."

"Then get your ass out there and don't come back until you do!" Cain moved to shut the door but Charles blocked him.

"Can I come in? I just want to get something."

"Fucking hell, Charles! I fucking told you to get your ass back out on that corner until you make me all of the fucking money that you owe me, plus fucking interest because I'm sick and tired of your pathetic ass always owing me for the fucking drugs!"

Charles swallowed hard as Cain slammed the door in his face, glancing down the hallway to see a couple more of Cain's boys creeping their way towards the apartment.

"Thanks for getting him fucking pissed!" the blond one that Charles thought was named Alex yelled. "Fuck, and Darwin and I don't have good news for him either!"

"Chill," the other man soothed, wrapping his arm around the blond's waist. "We've got a plan to work things out. It'll be fine."

Charles stepped back as they approached the door, reaching out to grab Darwin by the arm. "Hey, if he lets you inside, will you grab my backpack and toss it out onto the fire escape? I don't think Cain is going to let me in any time soon and I really need some of that stuff."

Darwin nodded. "Yeah, sure. Just get the fuck out of here before Cain sees you're still in the building."

Charles nodded and walked down the hallway, glancing back when he heard the door open and saw Alex and Darwin walk inside. There was a sign on the elevator proclaiming that it was broken, so he quickly went down the stairs and got out of the building. He walked around to the side where the fire escape was just as Darwin stepped out onto it three floors up. "Darwin!"

Darwin looked down and saw Charles, holding up the backpack. "Right one?"

"Yeah," Charles said. "Toss it down, will you?"

Darwin glanced back at the apartment before moving to the edge of the fire escape and dropping the bag in Charles's direction. He smiled when Charles caught it and yelled thanks, then leaned against the wrought-iron barrier and looked down at him. "Good luck, man. And pray Cain never finds you."

Charles slung a strap of the backpack over his shoulder and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Darwin. Good luck to you too."

"You need it more than me," Darwin said before walking back to the window and climbing back inside. 

Charles glanced around before walking down the alley in the opposite direction of where Cain had ordered him to go, picking up the pace of his steps every time he heard a sound. He had to get out of the neighborhood and fast.

He half-walked, half-ran until he didn't recognize his surroundings, then leaned up against a lamppost and took a deep breath. He stuck his hands in his pockets again, this time allowing his fingers to dance across the money that was in them, and he let a smile cross his lips.

He had every penny he owed Cain in his left pocket. In his right pocket was the rest of the money he'd found stuffed into one of his back pockets as he walked away from Station Thirty or Genosha or whatever the fuck it was Erik kept calling it.

Erik. The man who took him in that cold and rainy night, cleaned and bandaged his wounds, offered him a real job, fed him all he could eat, never let him touch him, made him sleep on the sofa, and while he was sleeping on that sofa, had stuffed nearly seventy-five hundred dollars into his pocket.

There was no way he could ever face the man again. He wouldn't even begin to know what to say.

Charles glanced around the street he was on and spotted a hostel a few blocks down. That was exactly what he needed, a safe place to stay for a while, and he'd worry about finding a place to buy some drugs and a place to work after that. He started walking towards the hostel, glancing around for help wanted signs as he passed by and decided that this neighborhood was a hell of a lot better than the one he'd just said goodbye to.

As he got closer to the hostel, he couldn't help but think that things were starting to look up.

**********

_six weeks later..._

Life utterly sucked. That's all Charles could think as he laid in his bed in the hostel, staring up at the ceiling. He waited until the rest of the room cleared out before reaching into his backpack and pulling out the little bit of money he had left.

Thirty-four dollars. Enough to cover the bed for one more night and about three dollars left after that.

What the fuck had he done with all that money? Charles got the answer to his own question when his left hand started to shake.

Drugs. He'd never realized how much Cain undersold that shit to his whores until he bought it from someone else. He'd finished off what he had the night before and he clearly didn't have enough to get him even a single hit.

He shoved the money back into his backpack and sat up, glancing around for any more of his possessions before walking out of the room and towards the desk. It would be utterly ridiculous to spend most of what he had left on a bed so that was it for the hostel.

When he walked out onto the sidewalk, he looked to his left and saw a couple of police officers, then to his right and saw a couple more police officers, before deciding to turn at the nearest corner and get the fuck away from there. He wandered aimlessly through city streets for the rest of the day, not paying any attention to time until it started to get dark and he remembered he no longer had a place to go. He stopped at a newsstand for a moment, grabbing a city map when the cashier had his back turned before quickly rounding a corner that took him to an alleyway. He walked down the alleyway until he was sure that no one was following him, then leaned up against the dirty brick of a building and started to look at the map.

Within five minutes, he'd decided he was way too far from Central Park and the hundreds of benches he supposed were there, available to be slept on by someone homeless like him. He folded the map up so that he could see the area he thought he was in as he pushed away from the building and walked out of the alleyway. He paused on the sidewalk and looked to his right, finding a street sign and determining that he was where he thought he was.

Then he looked to his left and saw a familiar-looking row of businesses, a long line stretching down the block from the one where the bass was thumping so hard Charles could swear he could feel it. He glanced up and saw the sign and though his brain was screaming at him to walk to the right, his feet carried him left towards the club.

Towards Genosha.

There was a bench almost directly across the street and Charles sat down on it, watching the crowd as they were slowly let in. He smiled after a moment, remembering Erik's nervousness at whether or not anyone would show up once the club was open and thinking that his fear had clearly not materialized into reality. There had to be at least seventy-five to a hundred people in the line and he had no idea how many were already inside.

He wasn't going to find out either. He wasn't going in there. He was just going to sit on that bench until he had to get up and walk off the shaking because it had been almost twenty-four hours since his last hit and the withdrawal was bound to set in soon. So he sat there, watching as people left the club and others were let inside. He stayed there even as the sky opened up and the rain poured down.

And he didn't move as the shakes started in, lost himself in the memories of being inside that building, being with someone who treated him like he was human and should be respected and deserved to be loved. And he didn't bother wiping his eyes when the tears came, the tracks on his cheeks blending in with the rain running down his face.

Then someone sat down beside him and moved their umbrella over so that it was covering him too.

"We seem to have a pattern of finding one another in the rain," Erik said, glancing in Charles's direction. "What's your name?"

"Christian."

"Stop with that bullshit. What's your name?"

"Charles," he mumbled after a few moments. "Charles Xavier."

Erik moved closer to him, resting the umbrella on the bench between them. "Alright. Any injuries that need attention this time, Charles?"

"No."

"You have a place to stay?"

"No."

"You blow through all that money I gave you already?"

Charles nodded shamefully. "All but thirty-four dollars."

"Alcohol or drugs?"

"Mostly drugs."

"You still pulling tricks?"

"Haven't in a month or so. Too scared that he'll find me."

"He?"

"Cain," Charles said, the fear evident in his voice. "Owe him tons of money. I just went back for my stuff and then disappeared on him. Usually, when someone runs on him, he tracks them down and shoots them."

Erik reached over and squeezed Charles's hand. "Well, that's not going to happen to you. I'll make sure of it."

"Don't see how you can," Charles mumbled. "I should go."

"Go where? You already told me that you have nowhere to stay."

"I've taken up too much of your time."

"It's my time. I'll do what I want with it."

"I don't deserve it."

Erik grabbed the umbrella and stood up, holding out his hand for Charles to take. "Well, I think that you do."

"You really do believe in second chances, don't you?"

Erik reached towards Charles's backpack and picked it up, slinging it onto one shoulder. "Everybody deserves a second chance. And sometimes a third or a fourth or a fifth. And I'm prepared to give that to you."

Charles watched as Erik extended his hand again. "You're serious."

"I was serious last time too," Erik said. "All you have to do is walk into the building with me, and I promise you, things are a lot better in there than things out here are."

Charles stared at him for a moment before taking Erik's hand and standing up. "If I don't like it, I'm gone."

Erik laughed as he looked around before starting to walk across the street, pulling Charles along behind him. "I run a restaurant and a nightclub, Charles, not a dungeon. I'm not trying to enslave you. If you want to leave, you can leave. But I hope you at least give it a chance."

Charles glanced around as they reached the line, laughing when some of them let out loud whistles. 

"Ooh, you got a good one there, Erik! Can I have him when you're done with him?"

"No, honey," Erik called out as they reached the door. "This one's off-limits!"

Charles made a strangled sound at that and Erik looked towards him, giving him a wink. "Trust me, you don't want to hook up with that bitch. Leaves makeup stains all over the sheets. Come on, let's get you settled upstairs. You look like you need food, sleep, and a hit of something, which I'm sure can be quickly acquired from someone downstairs in the club. We'll talk about everything else in the morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Charles was alone when he woke up, but there was a fresh set of brand new clothes sitting at the end of the bed. He called out for Erik but didn't receive a response, so he crawled out of bed and reached for the clothes. He realized they were the right size after a moment and quickly pulled them on before wandering out of the room. There was no one else in the apartment so Charles headed for the door, opening it and walking down the flight of stairs that led down to the restaurant. He looked around once he was down there and saw no one, so he headed towards the front door, walking outside to find various tables set up on the sidewalk and in the street. Confused, he walked all the way out to the edge of the blocked off area, turning around to take a look at the building so he could commit its name to memory.

Genosha.

"Did you not see the sign?" asked a man as he walked out of the restaurant. "Wait, I don't know you. Have you been here before or are you just out of drag and I don't recognize you? If you haven't been here before, then you obviously did not see the sign. Look, we're not open yet. Special hours today for the Fourth."

"I, um, I'm looking for Erik," Charles forced himself to say.

"Oh!" the other man exclaimed, quickly reaching out to grab the stack of plates he'd nearly knocked over as it set it down. "Why didn't you say something? Erik's not here, but he should be in a few minutes if you want to wait."

"I'll wait if you don't mind."

"Not at all! I'm Sean, by the way. I'm the cook."

"Erik would question you calling yourself a cook," came another voice, and Charles turned to see another man setting a few boxes down on a different table. "The only thing you can cook is an omelette."

"Hey, I said cook, not chef. I don't think I'm Wolfgang Puck or anything like that. And I told Erik that I couldn't cook anything besides eggs and he hired me anyway," Sean said, turning back to the boxes, opening up the top of one and digging through it. "Hank, this guy's here to see Erik. Said he'd wait for him."

"Erik is on his way to the airport to pick up Bobby and John," Hank said, walking over to Charles. "I'm Hank McCoy, the restaurant's manager. Are you Charles?"

"Yes," Charles said nervously. "Erik mentioned me?"

"He said you'd be around soon enough," Hank said, grinning at him. "Congratulations, you're hired. Erik can go over all the details later. We always need more people around here and I've been after a new waiter for awhile."

"Hired?"

"Oh wait, is he the new waiter?" Sean called out, pulling a red, white, and blue sparkling strand of garland out of the box. "What on earth are we supposed to do with this?"

"It's Bobby's idea of decoration, I think. Leave it for him," Hank said, shaking his head. "And go make some coffee, will you? I need it."

Sean laughed and started walking towards the doorway. "A little too much fun down in the club last night, huh?"

"Cassidy, if you like your job, shut the fuck up and go make me some fucking coffee."

"Alright, alright, I get the hint," Sean said, pausing in the doorway to look back at them. "Should I spread the word that you've had another fight with Raven though?"

Hank growled irritably for a moment before sighing heavily and letting his shoulders slump slightly. "Put some whiskey in the coffee. I need that too."

"Coffee, whiskey, and a ban on talking about Raven. Got it." Sean disappeared inside the restaurant, the sound of his steps clicking against the tiled floor drawing Charles's attention to what was on his feet.

"Does he wear heels often?" Charles asked quietly. 

"All the time, whether he's in drag or not," Hank said, turning his attention back to Charles and studying him for a moment. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No!" Charles exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously. "No, I don't have a problem with stuff like that. I mean, I'm not like that, but I don't...it's not..."

"Relax," Hank said softly, interrupting Charles's ramble, "no one is going to make you wear pumps if you don't want to."

Charles laughed and found himself smiling. "I'd probably fall over the moment I put them on."

"Well, if you want to give it a try, Sean's the one to ask. He usually only goes full-on drag a few nights a year, but the pumps? You'll see a different pair every day." Hank smiled but then the tone of his voice turned from playful to serious. "Look, Erik said you're coming from a difficult situation and I'm not going to ask for details. But if you're going to be uncomfortable with Sean wearing pumps then you'll definitely be uncomfortable with most of the people who come in here, and I'd rather you left now than cause me a problem later, okay?"

"I'm not uncomfortable!" Charles exclaimed quickly, then winced when he realized how unconvincing that sounded. "Seriously, it's not going to be an issue. I've just never been around that on a daily basis before. I don't care that anyone does it."

Hank stared at him for a moment before walking over to the box Sean had opened and pulling more decorations out of it. "Bobby better know what the hell he's doing with all this shit he bought."

"Oh, he does. He was going on and on about how fabulous everything is going to look before he and John fucked off to Los Angeles," another man said, walking outside and handing Hank a large mug. "Three parts coffee, one part whiskey."

Hank took a sip and then nodded, bringing a smile to the other man's face. "Perfect."

"Sean came down to the bar looking for the whiskey and nearly knocked over a rack of glasses, so I decided I should probably mix it myself," the other man said, looking up to see Charles standing there. "Did he not see the sign?"

"I think it was fucking impossible for someone to not have seen the sign, Erik made it so big," Hank muttered before taking another sip of the coffee. "No, this is Charles, Erik's new pet project. Charles, this is Scott, he runs the club."

Charles gave him a confused look. "Pet project?"

"Erik is always picking up strays," Scott said, smiling at him. "Always believes in second chances for everyone. Don't get offended by it. It's a badge of honor around here."

"I'll try to remember that," Charles said, taking a deep breath. "Erik really is like that though?"

"Oh yeah," Hank said, setting his coffee down on the table and opening up another box. "Just wait until you meet everyone. Lots of former pet projects. There's a few on the staff that owes everything to Erik. I'm sure he'll be happy to introduce you to everyone today. I mean, I assume you are sticking around, right?"

"Sure," Charles said, though he wasn't exactly sure what Hank had meant. "I need to talk to Erik anyway."

"Do you need me right now?" Scott asked, running his hands through his hair. "'Cause I was going to go home and crash for awhile."

"Fuck, no, go home and sleep," Hank said. "Tonight's going to be insane and Erik doesn't need you collapsing from exhaustion during it."

"Then I'll be back this afternoon," Scott said, pulling Hank into a quick kiss. "Charles, baby, good to meet you. I'll see you both later."

Charles watched him walked down the street and waited until he was sure that Scott wouldn't be able to hear him before speaking. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Scott? No, he's just a friend." Hank sighed and picked up his coffee, taking another sip. "You heard Sean talk about Raven earlier? She's my girlfriend. Well, for the moment anyway."

"Oh," Charles said, slightly uncomfortable. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Hank said, flashing Charles a smile. "Raven's the DJ here. She'll be around later. She'll tell you to run away screaming from all these crazy homos though."

"Erik's fucking crazier than the rest of us, Hank. He's the one who owns this place."

Charles looked up at the sound of the voice to see someone leaning out of one of the windows of the building's upper floor, then jumped when Hank slammed his coffee down on the table. 

"Kitty, what the fuck are you doing in Erik's apartment?"

"Calm down. Erik left that gorgeous hat he was wearing last night behind the bar and I was just putting it up here so someone didn't make off with it." Kitty shifted in the window until one of her arms was outside of it, pointing at Charles. "Hey, who is he? Didn't he see the sign?"

"There is absolutely no possible way that anyone who has been within a three block radius of this building didn't see the sign because Erik made it SO FUCKING BIG!" Hank exclaimed, grabbing his coffee and stalking back into the restaurant, leaving Charles standing on the sidewalk and more than a little confused.

"Wow. Okay, I totally must have missed the fight with Raven last night," Kitty said. "Um, anyway, who are you?"

"Charles," he said, squinting against the rising sun to see her, "and I, um, apparently work here now."

"Oh, we finally hired a new waiter? Cool, that will stop Erik's bitching." Kitty leaned back into the building a bit. "Well, welcome to the staff of Genosha, Charles. I'm Kitty, I'm a bartender, and I like long walks on the beach and Gay Day at the amusement park. I hope you last longer than the last waiter did."

Charles started to ask Kitty what she meant by that but Kitty ducked back into the building and shut the window before he could get the words out.

"Hey Charles, you want to come inside and help me?" Sean called out, drawing Charles's attention to the restaurant's door. "I've got five hundred glasses to wrap this stupid red, white, and blue crepe paper around before Bobby gets here from the airport so that he doesn't realize I didn't spend all of this week doing it like I was supposed to."

Charles laughed and walked towards the door, nodding at Sean. "Sure. So is this Bobby guy very particular about things?"

"Oh my God, he's fucking obsessed with details," Sean said, grabbing Charles's hand and leading him towards the back of the restaurant. "Just wait until you see how everything's organized and labeled in the storeroom."

**********

"Who the fuck took down the sign?"

"Sounds like Erik's back from the airport," Sean said, rolling his eyes and setting the last of the decorated glasses into the rack. "He's obsessed with that fucking sign."

Charles's laugh was interrupted by the door to the storeroom bursting open, Erik stalking in. "Sean, where the fuck is the sign?"

"Hank said we could take it down."

"Take it down? How in the fuck is anyone going to know what time we're opening today if the sign is down?"

"Um, maybe because the sign's been up for almost a month?" Sean stood and picked up a rack of the decorated glasses, holding it out for Charles to take before picking up another one. "Erik, calm down. Everybody in the neighborhood knows what time the barbecue starts because it starts at the same time every year."

"Well, I'm glad that you're so confident about that," Erik said, annoyed, before turning his gaze to Charles. "Charles. Good morning."

"He showed up here about an hour ago," Sean said, pushing past Erik and heading towards the door. "Hank said he's the new waiter."

"New waiter? I haven't hired a new waiter."

Sean paused and glanced back at Charles for a moment before shrugging. "Well, Hank called him the waiter, so I thought that was something you'd discussed with him about your new pet project."

"Of course he did," Erik said, shaking his head. 

Sean braced the rack against the wall and reached towards one of the shelves, grabbing a gigantic box of straws before taking hold of the rack again. "Come on, Charles, let's get these set up outside."

Charles followed Sean out of the storeroom and Erik trailed along behind them, grabbing a few things that he knew were needed outside along the way. "I was hoping to get to discuss this with you first, Charles, but Hank apparently jumped the gun."

"Of course he did," Sean said sarcastically. "As though that isn't where every single one of your pet projects starts. And I don't know, Hank's been acting weird for the last few days. He had another fight with Raven last night."

"Another one?" Erik sighed and set the things he was carrying down on one of the tables and then leaned against the building, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the list of things that had to be done to prepare for the barbecue.

"Yeah," Sean said, taking the rack from Charles's hands and stacking it on top of the one he'd just set down. "He wanted whiskey in his coffee this morning, and then Jubilee came up and had me make her one of the omelettes to take home for breakfast. She said that it was worse than the last one."

"Is it wrong of me to hope that they really end it this time? I mean, Hank is so much easier to be around whenever they're split," Erik said, sighing heavily and scanning the list before glancing up. "Sean, what is on your feet?"

"Aren't they like the most fantastic things ever?" Sean exclaimed, sitting down in one of the chairs and raising his leg to wave his foot around. "I about died when I saw them in the shop window. I mean, red, white, and blue pumps! They're so perfect, it's crazy!"

"Well, crazy is definitely one word for them," Erik said, shaking his head. "Charles, do you want to come inside? We can talk about some things in my office."

Charles nodded and followed Erik into the restaurant, wrapping his arms around himself as he followed him into an office. "I didn't know where you were when I woke up so I went looking for you and found them."

"It's fine, Charles," Erik said, walking over to the sofa and sitting down. "Come sit with me."

Charles hesitated but walked over, sitting down and swallowing hard. "So, um, what do you want me to do?"

"Excuse me?"

"I just...I assumed..."

Erik reached out and took Charles by the hand. "Charles, I brought you in here so we could talk. Nothing more. I will never ask for more than that and no one else here will either."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Erik said, peering at him with some concern. "This Cain guy you were talking to me about last night. He was your pimp, right?"

Charles forced himself to nod. "Yes."

"Well, you haven't traded one for another," Erik said seriously. "I want to help you, Charles. I want you to know that there is a better life out there for you and that you can start it here. The only thing I am going to pay you for is working in my restaurant and I will expect nothing in return for that. But if at any moment you decide that you don't want to be here anymore, then you are free to leave with the knowledge that you will always be welcomed back should you decide to return."

Charles swallowed hard. "I don't know where else I would go. I definitely don't want to be out there where he might be able to find me."

"You are more than welcome to stay however long you like. But as I said, if you ever want to leave, that's fine. I'm not trying to enslave you."

Charles nodded and Erik slid closer to him on the sofa. "Your hands shaking from the drugs?"

"No," Charles said softly. "You got me more than enough last night. I don't know how I'm ever supposed to pay you back for that. For any of this."

"You're not," Erik said simply. "But you can tell me why your hands are shaking."

"I just...you really want to help me that much? I'm useless, Erik."

"No, you're not," Erik said firmly. "You've just been taught that your only valuable skill is sex. I can assure you that it isn't."

"I don't know how to do anything else."

"I find that very hard to believe. But I am also giving you an opportunity to learn how to do something else. All you have to do is take it."

Charles looked over at him. "So you want me to be a waiter."

"I want you to do something, and if Hank has decided that he needs you to be a waiter, then yes, I want you to be a waiter. It'll be pretty simple to learn and you can take as long as you need to get it down, okay? And you definitely won't be in any sort of trouble should you screw something up. I don't even want to know what he did to you if you did."

Charles visibly shuddered. "It wasn't good."

"I imagine not," Erik said, looking up when there was a knock on the door. "What?"

Sean stuck his head into the room, his eyes landing on Charles quickly before shifting his gaze to Erik. "Janos wants to know if he and Azazel are allowed to come to the barbecue."

"Why would they think they wouldn't be allowed to come to the barbecue?"

"Because what I think they're actually asking is if they can come to the barbecue and not have to pay for anything."

Erik rolled his eyes. "They can shake their asses off in my club tonight to work it off."

Sean grinned. "They're going to do that anyway, Erik."

"Yes, well, I got quite the description of the Extravaganza from John on our way back from the airport, and if those two don't perform up to that standard, then I'm making them pay for what they eat today."

"I'll relay the message," Sean said, ducking back out of the room.

"Extravaganza?" Charles asked after a moment.

"It's one of the parties that we have go on down in the club," Erik said, squeezing his hand. "Go-go boys shaking their asses to the music in choreographed form. It's not a strip club and they're not being paid for sex. Though, to be fair, that doesn't ever stop one of them from ending up completely naked by the end of the show anyway."

"Parties?" Charles shook his head lightly and tried to smile. "I think there's going to be a lot I have to learn."

"Don't worry, you'll catch on fast," Erik said. "Speaking of John, I should go find him and Bobby and tell them to get their lazy asses out front to put up all these stupid decorations Bobby bought. Of course, knowing Bobby, he has it all sketched out and in a folder on his desk, and he'll stand there with it and direct the rest of us on how to put it up."

"He seems rather detail oriented, from what Sean was telling me."

Erik laughed as he stood up. "He's a bit crazy about all that stuff, and trust me, that will drive you crazy after awhile, but Bobby's a really good guy. You'll learn to love him."

"Sean seems nice," Charles said quietly as he stood. "Hank too. Everyone does so far."

"Ah, you say that now," Erik said, grabbing Charles's hand and pulling him towards the door. "But you haven't met any of the customers yet. I'll get Sean to warn you about some of them. Like Josephine. Oh my God, Josephine will complain about every single motherfucking thing she can think of, up to and including how bad Sean's cooking is and horror stories of her getting into drag that morning. I cannot tell you how many times I've had to listen to that girl bitch about combing out her weave and her tits not wanting to stay straight."

Erik paused by the door and waited until Charles was looking at him. "I meant what I said, Charles. And if anything or anyone is making you uncomfortable, please come talk to me about it. I will do whatever I can to make things better for you."

"Thank you," Charles breathed out. "I cannot express how grateful I am for all of this."

"No need to," Erik said, opening up the door. "How about you go help Sean outside? I'll round up Bobby and John and meet you out there."

"Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

Bobby tilted his head to the left and sighed, prompting John to roll his eyes. “Drake, the banner is level.”

“It doesn't look level.” Bobby sighed again and tilted his head to the right, squinting. “It looks like the right side is lower than the left.”

John groaned in frustration. “No, it's not. It's tied into the hooks and the hooks are level, and don't even think about arguing with me about whether the hooks are level because you had me and Erik up there for three hours when we put the hooks up to make sure that the hooks were level.”

“Fine,” Bobby said, looking down at the paper in his hand. “I think that's everything then.”

John grinned and pulled Bobby close to him, brushing a kiss across his lips. “It looks beautiful, gorgeous.”

Bobby laughed and dropped his sketch to the ground, wrapping his arms around John's neck. “Who are you calling gorgeous? You are the one who is gorgeous.”

“Nah, that's all you, gorgeous,” John said teasingly, bringing their lips together in a deeper kiss.

“Oh fuck, I completely forgot that they'd be in post-vacation gushy, lovey dovey mode,” Sean said, pushing Charles out the door and around the kissing twosome. “It's because they've been off in that most romantic of all places, Los Angeles. The one in blue is Bobby, the other one is John. Bobby's the head of inventory and John does all the club's parties, and if they ever decide to breathe again, I'll introduce you.”

Charles laughed nervously as he set the box he was carrying down, prompting Sean to stare at him for a moment. “What?”

“I don't know what the deal is, okay? But there's no need to be so nervous,” Sean said, opening up the box and pulling bags of hamburger buns out. “Especially not about them making out, because let me tell you, it happens a lot.”

Charles hesitated briefly before nodding. “I'll try to remember that.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Bobby! Welcome back to the land of reality!” Sean exclaimed, reaching out and putting an arm around Charles's shoulders. “This is Charles, he's the new waiter and Erik's new pet project. Charles, this is Bobby and John, Genosha's power couple.”

Bobby reached out and hit Sean on the top of the head while John rolled his eyes. “Power couple? Sean, you've been watching too many soap operas.”

“Fuck you, Allerdyce,” Sean said, slapping Bobby's hand away from his head. “And lover boy here watches them with me.”

“You do?” John asked, surprised, as Bobby stared at the ground sheepishly.

“Maybe,” Bobby mumbled, glancing over at John. “There's nothing else on during the afternoon and they can get addicting.”

John just shook his head. “Some of our arguments make a bit more sense now.” He laughed when Bobby hit him in the shoulder. “Seriously, Drake, you can get a bit dramatic at times.”

“I take offense to that,” Bobby said. “I do not get dramatic.”

“Of course you don't,” John replied sarcastically, leaning over and brushing a kiss across Bobby's temple. “I need to go track down the boys and make sure they all know what time to show up tonight. Charles, it was nice to meet you.”

Charles nodded and shook John's outstretched hand before John walked off. Bobby tilted his head and looked Charles up and down, a smile slowly crossing his face. “So, what on earth do you want to work alongside a bunch of flamboyant bitches like us for, hm?”

“I, um,” Charles said, shoving his hands into his pockets nervously. “I just do.”

Sean rolled his eyes and grabbed one of Charles's arms, pulling at it until its hand was out of the pocket. He reached over and did the same with the other one. “Stop getting so nervous about everything. You'll learn what you need to and no one will get pissed at you in the meantime. Well, unless you fly off into some homophobic rant in the middle of the restaurant like the asshole that was our last waiter did. Then you would be lucky not to end up in the hospital in a full body cast.”

“No, no, no,” Charles said quickly, shaking his head. “I'd never...I mean, how could I have a problem with it when I...”

“Relax, I know,” Sean said, wrapping his arm around Charles's shoulders again. “And I am going to make sure that everyone else does too, and once you've been here for a few weeks then you will realize that we've all got each other's backs and that will start to include you.”

“I was just joking anyway,” Bobby said, smiling at Charles. “After all, Erik's the biggest bitch of us all and he's clearly seen something in you that the rest of us will quickly discover. You'll be one of these flamboyant bitches in no time.”

“I don't mean to be so nervous,” Charles said sheepishly. “I just don't really know what I'm doing, I guess. I haven't had a lot of real interaction with people in a long time, and I was never that great at meeting people before anyway, so I don't know why I thought it might be easier here. I'm just really pathetic, and uncultured, and boring, apparently.”

“Hey now,” Sean said, leaning his head on Charles's shoulder. “You are definitely not pathetic, and I don't think you're all that boring either, and as for the uncultured pat, well, we will just have to educate you, won't we Bobby?”

“Absolutely,” Bobby said, smiling sympathetically. “You are one of us now, Charles. And I have a feeling that you will fit in just fine.”

“What the fuck are you bitches just standing around for?” came Hank's voice, drawing their attention to the restaurant's front door. “There is only fifteen fucking minutes until customers start showing up and you all are standing around like there's not a motherfucking thing to do!”

Bobby rolled his eyes and bent to pick up his sketch, folding it up and sliding it into his pocket. “Calm the fuck down, Hank. We will be ready for customers when customers show up.”

“And if we're not?”

Bobby laughed and headed for the door. “Then like any good group of queens, we will just fake it until we are.”

**********

“Clear the sidewalk, bitches! I have arrived so the party may now begin!”

The crowd that had gathered around the front of Genosha parted slightly, revealing Sebastian Shaw standing on the sidewalk's edge. He had a gigantic red, white, and blue sequined top hat on his head, tilted to the right and dipped down to partially cover his right eye. Strand after strand of red, white, and blue beads hung from his neck, and matching earrings graced his ears. A tight white t-shirt clung to his torso, with a blue vinyl cropped jacket worn over the top, and bright red pants that were cut off at mid-calf to reveal fishnet stockings down to his shimmery white high heels. A few cries of “hey, girl” could be heard as people acknowledged his presence. 

And the moment Sean saw him, he could not stop the laughter from escaping his lips.

“What the fuck is so funny, you stupid bitch?” Sebastian asked, striding forward through the parted crowd and stopping in front of him.

Sean reached out and pulled at the beads, still laughing. “Did you like confuse the Fourth of July with Mardi Gras and maybe a trip to a secondhand shop or something?”

“Oh fuck you, you stupid bitch,” Sebastian exclaimed, slapping Sean's hand away and glaring at him. “I pump a look and all the bitches follow because I am supremely fabulous.”

“Well, if it means wearing that, then I'm definitely not following,” Sean said as Charles walked over to them and started looking Sebastian up and down. “Seriously, do you own a mirror?”

“Please, I look fierce and you know it,” Sebastian said, straightening his posture when he got a good look at Charles. “Ooh, and hello beautiful. I don't believe we've met.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Sebastian, this is Charles, the new waiter. Charles, this is Sebastian.”

“Sebastian Shaw, the star of John Allerdyce's gay extravaganzas, especially the one here at Genosha. It's so lovely to meet you, beautiful. I hope we can get to know each other real well,” Sebastian said, leaning forward and kissing Charles hard. 

Charles's eyes had widened almost comically when Sebastian pulled back. “I...um...I...” he mumbled, blinking his eyes rapidly. “I'm going to just go find Erik. Yeah, that. Um, yeah.”

Sebastian frowned when Charles practically ran away, turning to Sean with a confused look on his face. “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Did I just see what I think I just saw?” Bobby asked before Sean could say a thing, walking up to them. “Please, please tell me you didn't just kiss Charles. Please.”

“And so what if I did?” Sebastian exclaimed. “He's fucking hot.”

Bobby sighed and looked off in the direction that Charles had run, relieved to see that Erik seemed to be calming him down. “He's also Erik's new pet project, you idiot.”

“Pet project?” Sebastian glanced over in Charles's direction before looking at Bobby. “So? That's never stopped me before.”

“This one's different,” Bobby said seriously. “I don't know what the situation is but Erik said it's serious.”

Sebastian just shook his head. “I don't give a fuck what Erik said. That man is gorgeous.”

“And I don't give a fuck what you think,” Bobby said, moving closer to Sebastian. “Look, Erik's got a feeling about this kid, okay? He went into his motherly mode earlier when he was talking to me about him, and that tells me that if you fuck this kid up, Erik is absolutely going to lose it with you, alright? Do not turn him into another one of your conquests. Is that clear?”

“Oh, fuck off, Bobby. Just because you play the good little housewife and bottom for my boss doesn't mean you get to tell me what I can and cannot fucking do.” Sebastian adjusted his hat dramatically before sighing. “But fine, whatever. I am right and I know it, and when that becomes obvious to everyone else, no one is going to be able to stop me from getting a taste of that. Is that clear?”

Bobby threw his hands up in disgust. “I fucking swear to God, if you shaking your ass didn't make Johnny so much money, I'd drag you out onto the street and kick that ass down the block.”

“Aw, I love you too,” Sebastian said sarcastically before abruptly turning around and stalking away.

**********

“So this queen I've never seen before comes right up by the DJ booth last night and starts talking smack to me about how the music is so much better in Miami. I was like, does this look like fucking Miami to you, bitch?”

Erik sighed heavily and looked across the counter at Raven. “Can you please stop pretending that last night's argument with Hank didn't happen?”

“No,” Raven said pointedly before taking a sip of her soda and continuing. “Anyway, we got into this huge debate about which was better, Miami or good old New York, and in the end, we both ended up agreeing that Los Angeles was fucking better than both of them.”

“Oh, not this again,” Erik groaned, leaning down to press his forehead to the counter. “Raven.”

Raven pushed her plate to the side and reached out to tangle her fingers in Erik's hair. “We would love it so much, Erik. We could find a place near the coast and lie around on the beach all day, and you could open up another club that Hank could run, and we would just be happy, Erik. We would be so, so happy.”

“No, you would be happy and Hank and I would be miserable,” Erik mumbled before tilting his head up and shaking it until Raven's fingers untangled themselves from his hair. “Hank has no desire to move to Los Angeles. Neither do I. How many times do either of us have to say that?”

Raven sighed and ran a hand through her own hair. “Can't you even just to take a few minutes and just dream about it?”

“No, I can't!” Erik exclaimed, pushing himself away from the counter and throwing his hands up in frustration. “Hank's dream was New York, Raven. So was mine. Not Los Angeles. Never Los Angeles.”

“And mine was Los Angeles, but I made the mistake of coming to New York first,” Raven said, sighing deeply. “And the longer I stay here, the more I hate every fucking thing about this place.”

Erik closed his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly, taking in a deep breath to try and keep himself calm. “You cannot possibly hate every single thing about New York City. There are places you've never been to and there have been more than a few good moments at some of the ones you have.”

“No, Erik, I mean everything. Every motherfucking thing,” Raven said, climbing off the stool she'd been sitting on and dropping her napkin onto the counter. “And as much as I don't want it to, that's starting to include you and Hank too.”

“Then why the fuck don't you just go to motherfucking Los Angeles then?” Erik said angrily.

“Maybe I will,” Raven said, walking towards the door. 

Erik leaned back against the prep table and sighed. “So that's it then? You're just going to leave?”

“I don't know,” Raven said, pausing in the doorway. “I just...I cannot be around this place right now.”

“Fine,” Erik mumbled as Raven walked out the door. “Whatever.”

**********

Charles took a deep breath as he saw Sebastian approaching, nervously fiddling with the edges of his napkin. Erik had told him that he would talk to Sebastian about what had happened, but he wasn't sure if that had happened yet or not. He could tell that Erik was extremely busy. 

Sebastian pulled out the chair across from Charles and sat down, smiling at him. “Listen, beautiful, about earlier. I'm sorry if I freaked you out,” he said, reaching out to cover Charles's hand with his own. “Bobby already bitched me out over it, so I'd prefer that you didn't do the same, but if you want to slap me or something, I suppose I deserve it.”

“No,” Charles croaked out, shaking his head slightly. “It's fine.”

Sebastian sighed and rubbed the inside of Charles's wrist with his fingertips. “Obviously it's not because you can't even speak properly. Seriously, you are going to be seeing a lot of me because I end up in the restaurant every fucking day and I don't want you to run away every time I try to talk to you.”

Charles laughed, although to Sebastian's ears it sounded a bit forced. “I won't run away, I promise. I just need to get used to all of this.”

“Well, you have at least been kissed by someone, right?” Sebastian asked, grinning at him. “Because I couldn't tell if you were in shock or if you were just a really shitty kisser.”

“No, I've definitely been kissed before,” Charles said, shaking his head. “And I don't want to talk about that.”

“Bad breakup?”

“Something like that,” Charles said after a moment.

“What kind of dumb bitch is he if he left your gorgeous ass?” Sebastian asked, squeezing Charles's hand. “If he's stupid enough to do that, I think you're better off without him.”

“Thanks,” Charles said weakly. “I think. It's just...it's going to take me some time. I'm starting to think that things might have a chance at being alright now.”

“Well, sticking around here will definitely help with that.” Sebastian looked up when he heard someone call out his name, taking his hand off Charles's to wave at them. “Ah, I need to go mingle before my reputation gets ruined. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon.” 

Charles nodded as Sebastian stood up, his eyes fixed on where Sebastian's hand used to be touching his. Sebastian noticed where his gaze was at and grinned, knowing that once again he was right and Bobby was wrong, and it was going to be so much fun once he could finally prove that.

Charles swallowed hard when the seat Sebastian had just left was suddenly filled, but he relaxed when he noticed that it was just Erik. “Hi.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable again?” Erik asked quickly. “Because I didn't get a chance to talk to him yet.”

“It was better this time,” Charles said quietly. “He apologized before he started asking things, and I didn't know what to say, and he asked me if there was a bad breakup so I just let him think that. I hope that's okay.”

“Charles, what you tell people is entirely up to you,” Erik said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “No one but me knows the truth.”

Charles nodded. “I believe you. And I don't know what I want anyone to know. Definitely not anything for awhile, that's for sure.”

“Well, I will be fully supportive of whatever you decide to do,” Erik said, smiling at him. “I want you to be comfortable here, Charles. And if part of being comfortable means that only you and I know the truth, then that's okay. I want you to know that's okay.”

“I just don't want to do something that's going to make you kick me out,” Charles said quietly. “Because I really don't know what I'd do.”

Erik stood up and walked around the table, crouching down next to where Charles was sitting. “Charles, listen to me. You're not going to do anything that's going to make me kick you out. You are here for as long as you want to be. If that's forever, then that's forever. If that's a couple of months, then that's a couple of months. I am here to help you. I am not here to force you to do anything you don't want to. But I promise you, there is nothing you can say or do that will make me kick you out.”

Charles blinked rapidly to keep the tears that were threatening from flowing down his cheeks. “Why do you want to help me so much?”

“Because I think you deserve a second chance. No one should have to live the life that you were living,” Erik said softly. “Not when someone can give them a chance at a better one.”

“I can't ever repay you for this.”

“I don't expect you to. This is free help, Charles. All you have to do is accept it.”

“I don't know who this person I've become is, Erik,” Charles sniffled. “I just know I don't like being him.”

“Then let me help you figure out who you really are, okay?” Erik said, standing up. “Come on. I think you need some time away from this craziness for awhile. Let's go up to the loft and talk.”

Charles nodded and stood, giving Erik a shaky smile. “Can I ask a question?”

“You don't need to say that, Charles. Just ask the question.”

“Why do you live here?” Charles asked as they walked towards the door. “I mean, I would think that you'd want to go home from work, not be here all the time.”

“When I bought Station Thirty from the previous owner, it cost me so much that I didn't really have money to make rent anymore. That space was nothing more than a storage place that we didn't really use, and so I moved my stuff in and started living there,” Erik said, holding open the door for Charles. “Once I had enough money, I'd gotten so used to being needed here twenty-four seven that I just hired contractors to come in and make it a real apartment. It's just easier for me and the business for me to be here.”

“So you owned this place before it was Genosha?”

“Yeah, I bought it from the previous owner about a year before I met you, and I only decided to rebrand it about two months before I met you. And to be honest, the rebranding was necessary. The club was losing money because hardly anyone was coming to it, but with the help of Hank and Bobby and Scott, I decided that turning this place into a gay Mecca would help save everything. And we ended up being right. The club is a money making machine now and the restaurant revenue is up as well.”

Charles nodded as they made their way to the staircase that led up to the loft. “You should go do what you need to do, Erik. I'll be fine up here for awhile.”

“You sure?” Erik said, looking at him carefully. “Because I can totally stay upstairs with you.”

Charles just shook his head. “No, I'm fine. I just need to take a hit and lay on the floor for awhile.”

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, just come find me, okay? I will stop whatever it is I'm doing and help you.”

“Thank you, Erik,” Charles said softly. “I really appreciate that.”

“I'll do anything for you, Charles. You'll learn that soon enough,” Erik said, giving him one last glance before walking away. 

Charles took a deep breath and walked up the staircase, letting himself into the loft and taking a deep breath. The entire day so far had been completely overwhelming and all he needed at that moment was a hit and to feel like he was on a different planet for awhile. But when he came back down, he was going to find Erik again and ask what he could do to help when the barbecue was over. There was obviously going to be a lot of clean up, and if Charles was going to stick around here, then he was going to learn to involve himself. 

He was going to learn to be part of these flamboyant bitches, as Bobby had put it, and he knew deep down that he was going to like it.


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby pushed open the door and walked into the empty club, scanning the room before seeing Scott lining up bottles behind the bar. He smiled when Scott noticed him and walked over, nodding when Scott held up the bottle of whiskey. “What are you doing down here all by yourself?”

“I'm just making sure that stuff is ready for tonight,” Scott said, setting a couple of glasses on the bar and spooning a few ice cubes into each one. “It's going to be busy and I don't want to have to try and make my way through the crowd carrying these heavy boxes.”

Bobby took one of the glasses once Scott had poured the whiskey in. “Thanks. And don't think for a second that I believe you. You disappeared the moment Jean showed up.”

“I did not,” Scott said, knocking back his drink. “I waited until she had gone into the restaurant with Logan to do that.”

Bobby sighed and set his glass down, leaning against the bar. “Scott.”

“Bobby.”

“No, you don't get to deny it anymore, okay?” Bobby said, grabbing Scott's arm. “It's so fucking obvious that I'm surprised she hasn't noticed.”

“She hasn't noticed anything because there is nothing to notice,” Scott said, pulling his arm away from Bobby's grasp and going back to the box he was unpacking.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Your constant and continued denial is just annoying at this point. Please, just for five seconds, be honest for once and admit that you are in love with Jean. Please.”

Scott slammed the bottle in his hands down onto the counter and groaned. “I am not in love with Jean. How many more times do I have to say that before you believe it?”

“A lot more because I am never going to believe it,” Bobby said, walking to the end of the bar and ducking under it. “Scott Summers, I have known you for five years now and I've been able to tell since the very first week I knew you. I'm telling you, it's obvious.”

“And I'm telling you that you are fucking insane because there is nothing to be obvious about,” Scott said, turning around to face Bobby. “Just because you and John are so domestic doesn't mean that you have to try to make everyone else be fucking domestic too, okay?”

“This has nothing to do with me and Johnny, bitch. This has to do with you and your fucking self-inflicted torture,” Bobby said, shoving Scott back against the counter. “You motherfucking hate Logan, and that's definitely no fucking secret, and you cannot give anyone a single reason why that doesn't have something to do with his relationship with Jean. You haven't had a girlfriend in the entire time that I've known you and I'm not even sure I could remember the last time you went home with someone.”

“I hate Logan because he's a fucking asshole who wouldn't know how to treat Jean properly even if someone spelled it fucking out for him, I don't have a girlfriend because I don't fucking want one, and my sex life is none of your concern,” Scott said, pushing Bobby away and turning back to the bottles.

“Fine,” Bobby sighed, plastering himself along Scott's back and hugging him. “I just want you to be happy, honey. You seem so lonely most of the time.”

Scott sighed and dropped his head back, smiling when Bobby brushed a kiss along his temple. “I am happy, baby. I promise.”

“I wish I believed you,” Bobby said, squeezing Scott again before letting go.

“I wish you did too,” Scott said, laughing. “You wouldn't be so fucking annoying all the time.”

Bobby shoved him. “Oh, fuck you.”

“What are you two arguing about now?” came Erik's voice, and they turned to see him walking across the dance floor. 

“Nothing,” Bobby said, ducking back underneath the bar. “I need to go find Johnny so that he knows the club's open for him to come down and start getting ready for tonight.”

“Tell him I can't wait to see the show!” Scott called out as Bobby walked away.

“Seriously, what were you arguing about now?” Erik said, leaning up against the bar. 

“Jean, of course,” Scott said, sighing. “He remains insistent that I'm in love with her.”

“Because you are.”

Scott looked around to make sure no one else was around. “Yes, I am.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Scott said seriously. “She's happy with Logan and I have to respect that, no matter how much I despise him.”

“I don't know if she's as happy as you think she is.”

Scott spun around. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that they have been bitching at each other something fierce for at least the last month, but because you always disappear when Logan is with her, you haven't been around to see it,” Erik said seriously. “They got in a huge fight in the middle of the restaurant today and Logan stormed out of here. Jean left not that long after that, muttering something about going to her sister's. It was quite the scene.”

Scott took a deep breath and turned back to the box. “Please don't get my hopes up.”

“I'm not trying to get your hopes up. I'm telling you the reality of the situation. There might not be a Jean and Logan for much longer.”

“They've had fights before.”

“Not like this one, trust me.”

Scott took another deep breath. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“I have to get back up there. I just wanted to know if you were down here,” Erik said, shaking his head when Scott didn't even turn around. “Don't forget to come get something to eat before the barbecue is over. The last thing in the world that I need is you passing out tonight because you didn't eat anything.”

“I will, don't worry.”

**********

“It's closing time, bitches! If you want to stick around, you have got to move it down to the club!” Erik yelled out, leaning forward and grabbing Hank's shoulder to keep his balance when someone bumped into the table he was standing on. “Mistress Jubilee has just opened up the bar, there is no cover charge, and the show is kicking off at midnight, so get your sexy asses down there and get your liquor now! Otherwise, get the fuck out of my restaurant and go home!”

Erik looked around as he climbed off the table and saw the crowd move towards the door that led into the club, and he took a deep breath. The place was going to be packed tonight and he still really needed that. His eyes turned back towards the restaurant's door and he saw Charles standing there, looking around carefully. 

“Your pet project looks lost,” Hank commented, drawing Erik's attention to the fact that he was still there. “Maybe you should drag him down in the club and get him drunk and willing.”

“No,” Erik said firmly. “That is absolutely not happening.”

“It wouldn't be the first time you've done that with a pet project.”

“This one is different.”

“You going to tell me the backstory?”

“No,” Erik said, shaking his head. “Not until Charles decides he wants people to know.”

“Okay.”

“You'll look after him, right?” Erik said, looking over at Hank. “He's very jumpy and very worried that he's going to be punished for doing something wrong.”

“Punished? What the fuck did this kid go through?”

“As I said, it's up to Charles to decide if he wants people to know,” Erik murmured. “But it was a really bad situation and I am so happy that I helped to get him out of it.”

“I'll spread the word not to constantly ask Charles what the backstory is and to make sure he knows that he's not in trouble if he screws something up,” Hank said, looking around. “I've got to start clean up. You go deal with him.”

Erik nodded and walked off, heading to where Charles was and giving him a smile. “I was wondering if we'd see you again today.”

“I want to help,” Charles said softly. “But I don't know where to start.”

“That's not necessary, Charles,” Erik said, shaking his head. “The boys have got this.”

“But I need to start interacting with them and helping. I don't want them to think I won't contribute.”

“No one thinks that, Charles,” Erik stressed. “Everyone knows that you've just come from something rough and that you need time. I'm not even going to have you on full shifts in the restaurant at first. You're going to slowly work your way into it, okay?”

Charles nodded and took a deep breath. “I just don't want to be in the way.”

“You're not,” Erik said seriously, staring at him for a moment. “Can I hug you?”

“What?” Charles asked, looking up. 

“You look like you need a hug and I am not going to violate your personal space without asking permission,” Erik said, giving him a smile. “So I just want to know if I can give you a hug.”

Charles looked at him for a moment before nodding and then Erik stepped closer and pulled him into an embrace. Charles settled his head on Erik's shoulder and took in a shuddering breath, taking comfort from the warm arms around him. “No one has just given me a hug in a long time,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“You can have all the hugs you want, okay? I know I won't be the only one willing to give you one,” Erik said, letting his head rest against Charles's. “Can I kiss you? Not your lips, but just a kiss along your temple.”

Charles nodded against him so Erik turned his head and pressed his lips to Charles's temple, tightening his arms when Charles shuddered against him. “I cannot begin to imagine what you've been through, Charles,” he said softly. “But I promise you, no one here will ever try to do that with you. Not even Sebastian, no matter how much he wants to make you one of his conquests. Just keep turning him down and he'll get the hint after awhile.”

“He made me really uncomfortable,” Charles admitted. “He reminded me of some of the tricks. They used to just grab me and force themselves on me, and I just...”

“I have spoken to him about what he did and I will ban him from the fucking place if he does that again, and he knows it. I am so sorry that he did that, Charles. Is there anything I can do to help make things better?”

Charles shook his head. “No, I can deal with it. Dealt with it all the time before so why should this be any different?”

“You shouldn't have to deal with it, honey,” Erik said, sighing. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Honestly, I kind of want to see this show I've heard so much about today.”

Erik smiled. “We can watch the show if you want.”

“You should be doing what you need to do,” Charles said weakly.

“Right now what I need to be doing is making sure you're alright,” Erik said, brushing another kiss along Charles's temple. “That is my job for the rest of the night. Everyone else can run the club. If I'm needed for something, I'll be down there with you.”

“I haven't been down there yet,” Charles murmured.

“Then shall we go see it?”

Charles pulled back and took a couple of deep breaths. “Do I get a drink on the house?”

Erik smiled at him. “Charles, all my employees get drinks on the house. Of course you do.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then can we go get me something to drink? I feel like I really need one.”

“Absolutely.”

**********

Erik leaned against the back wall of the DJ booth as Raven faded the end of one song into the beginning of the next. “What the fuck did you have me paged for if all you're going to do is sit there and ignore me?”

“I'm not ignoring you, I'm doing my fucking job,” Raven said, sliding the headphones off her ears and turning to face him. “I had you paged so that I could tell you I quit.”

“You quit? You motherfucking quit?”

“Well, it would be pretty hard to keep working here with I'm living in Los Angeles.”

“Los Angeles,” Erik said, shaking his head. “You're actually going to go to Los Angeles.”

“It's something I need to do,” Raven said, setting the headphones down and walking up to Erik. “I need to go out there and experience it, and then decide where it is I want to be.”

Erik sighed and pulled Raven into an embrace, leaning his forehead against her shoulder. “And this is the part where you ask me to talk to Hank and then have the two of us go with you, right?”

“Actually,” Raven said, brushing a kiss across Erik's temple, “this is the part where I break things off with Hank and say goodbye to both of you.”

Erik's head snapped up and he stared straight into Raven's eyes, his own widened in disbelief. “Break things off with Hank?”

“We've been together for the better part of ten years, Erik,” Raven said, pulling back. “And Hank and I are no closer to admitting that this is something permanent than we were on the day we met. All we ever do is fight, I can't remember the last time we did something that didn't involve this fucking place, and for fuck's sake we don't even live together.”

“I know all of that,” Erik said, shaking his head. “But...”

“But what? We love each other?” Raven asked, rolling her eyes. “Oh come on, that is nothing more than a fucking poor excuse for staying together at this point. You know as well as I do that isn't going to solve a motherfucking thing.”

“Raven,” Erik said, leaning his head against the wall. “This is going to destroy him.”

Raven sighed. “It's not enough, Erik. I need more and he deserves better, and all we are doing is keeping each other from that.”

Erik swallowed hard. “So when are you leaving then?”

“Tomorrow,” Raven said, turning back to the boards and grabbing the headphones.

Erik pushed himself off the wall and reached out, grabbing the headphones from Raven and shaking his head. “No,” he said softly, sliding the headphones around his neck and turning towards the boards. “I'll do it. You don't...you don't work here anymore.”

Raven stood there as Erik put the headphones on and watched him change the song over to the next before reaching over and flipping the microphone on. “Copycat to the DJ booth, Copycat to the DJ booth.” 

Erik looked back at her as Raven turned the microphone off and Raven smiled at him. “Make Vanessa spin the whole night, okay? She can handle it.”

“I don't need you to tell me that,” Erik said, turning back to the boards. “Leave before she gets here, please. I want to keep this quiet. I don't need every fucking queer in this place knowing about this tonight.”

“If that's what you want.” Raven leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Erik's head before snagging her jacket off the back of the chair. “Goodbye, Erik.”

Erik waited until she had left before slumping down into the chair and closing his eyes, drowning out his thoughts with the music coming through the headphones. There were so many things that needed to happen now, but the main concern was going to be Hank.

Hank was going to fall apart and Erik had absolutely no idea what to do to help fix him.

**********

Charles laughed as Kitty set another drink in front of him, leaning over against Bobby. “This is fun.”

“Ah, so now we know the secret of how to make Charles enjoy himself. Give him a few shots of vodka,” Kitty said, grinning as she set the bottle on the bar. “He's great, Bobby. He's going to have to come down here more often.”

“We'll let him decide that for himself, I think,” Bobby said, knocking back a shot. “But I have a feeling you'll be seeing plenty of him eventually.”

Charles reached out and grabbed the bottle, trying to read the label in the dimmed light. “What is this stuff? I don't think I have ever felt this good in my life.”

“It's the best vodka we've got so it better be making you feel good,” Kitty said, taking the bottle back and setting it behind the bar this time. “But I think you've probably had enough of it, from the looks of you.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and reached towards the bottle, groaning when Kitty slapped at his hand. “Oh, fuck off, Kitkat. It's a holiday, neither one of us is driving, and all we have to do is stumble upstairs in the morning.”

Kitty started to say something but cut herself off when Hank suddenly appeared by her side. “Kitty, where did that bottle of really good whiskey end up? The one Erik told you not to sell to anyone.”

“It's on the top of the bookcase in Scott's office, I think.”

“Okay,” Hank said, grabbing the bottle of vodka and looking at the label before tucking it under his arm. “When you write up your order sheets put another bottle of it on there because I'm taking that one.”

Kitty nodded and watched as Hank ducked out from behind the bar and went off in the direction of Scott's office, turning towards Bobby with a concerned look on her face. “He looks like shit.”

Bobby nodded in agreement then started to turn towards the DJ booth, pausing when he started to get dizzy and leaning up against Charles instead. “Fuck, I'm drunk.”

“Hey, why the fuck is Vanessa still in the booth?” Sean asked, sliding up next to Bobby and leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. “The show is about to start and Raven always spins the shows.”

Kitty quickly scanned the club for any sign of Raven and then waved at Jubilee to get her attention. “Jubes! Where the fuck is Raven?”

“Raven left about an hour ago,” Jubilee yelled back. “I was standing at the door with Theresa and she came out. Theresa asked her where she was going but she didn't say anything.”

Kitty nodded in thanks and turned back to the other three. “Well, let's see if we can work this out, shall we? Raven's walked out on one of the biggest nights of the year, Hank looks like fucking hell and is looking for something to get fucking smashed with, and Vanessa's in the DJ booth all by herself. Three guesses as to what has happened and the first two don't count.”

“Fuck, you think it's for good this time?” Sean asked, moving around Bobby and sliding an arm around Charles's waist. “Because for all of their fights, Raven's never actually left in the middle of a shift before.”

“It wouldn't surprise me,” Kitty said, looking up as someone walked towards the bar. “They were seriously at each other's throats last night. Excuse me.”

Bobby sighed as Kitty went to deal with the customer, leaning his head against Charles's shoulder. “Sean, is the show about to start?”

“You better fucking believe it, honey,” Sean said, grinning at him. “That's why I came over here, to get you two. Sebastian has requested that Charles be front and center when he hits the stage.”

Bobby started to say what a bad idea he thought that was but Charles wrapped one of his arms around Sean's shoulders and grinned. “Sounds good to me!”

Sean made sure that Charles had his glass in his hand before he started leading them away from the bar. “You know, Charles, I think Sebastian quite likes you.”

“He was a dick,” Charles said, stumbling down the step that led to the dance floor. “So, what kind of show is this anyway?”

Sean just laughed. “You'll see, gorgeous. You will see.”


	5. Chapter 5

The music was good, the alcohol was making him feel even better, the crowd around them was loud and friendly, and before he realized it, Charles found himself caught up in the atmosphere. He was barely paying attention to the dancing boys on the stage, laughing drunkenly when he realized that Sean couldn't take his eyes off of them. But then Sean put his hands on Charles's hips, and Bobby put his hands on his shoulders, and then all of the sudden he was dancing. And he didn't really think about what he was doing at first, his body settling into the rhythm of the music, but then Bobby and Sean both pressed hard up against him and Charles's eyes went wide. 

“Can you not...” Charles got out, but the music was louder than his voice and neither man heard him. 

Charles tried to wriggle away but they had a good grip on him, and he felt himself start to panic. Then out of nowhere Erik was in front of him, and Erik's voice was considerably louder than his had been. “Get your fucking hands off of him. NOW.”

Bobby and Sean immediately moved away and Erik stared at Charles until Charles nodded. He pulled Charles into his arms and took a deep breath when Charles buried his face in his neck. He could tell that Bobby and Sean were watching them and he knew that they'd need some sort of explanation, but for now the priority was Charles. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Charles shook his head and pulled back. “I want to see the show.”

“Do you want to go somewhere more comfortable?”

Charles shook his head again. “Here is fine.”

“Then we'll watch it from here,” Erik said, settling himself behind Charles so he could see the stage. “Let's enjoy the show, right boys?”

“Of course,” Sean said, yelping when someone grabbed his hand and spun him into their arms. “Well, hello beautiful.”

Erik rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Bobby. “Aren't you supposed to be paying attention to your husband's show?”

“I've been paying attention,” Bobby said defensively. “We were just trying to get Charles to dance.”

“Well, next time, don't,” Erik said firmly. 

Bobby just nodded and turned his attention back to the stage, and Erik stepped closer to Charles. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Charles nodded as the music stopped, the lights on the stage dimmed, and the crowd erupted in a loud cheer. He closed his eyes and concentrated his attention on the sound of his own breathing, nodding again when a question was gently whispered into his ear and then Erik's hands settled onto his hips. He was here, he was safe, and he was having fun. 

“Make some motherfucking noise, bitches!”

Charles's eyes snapped open, his gaze switched to the stage, and the first thing he saw were the boots. High-heeled, laced-up, knee-high, white leather boots that looked like they were molded to the boys' calves. Then the music started up again and the boots started to move, and Charles had a moment where he wondered how on earth they were capable of standing in such things, let alone dancing in them. His eyes stayed glued to the stage as he felt Sean move close to him again, swallowing hard as a hand slid down Sebastian's stomach and into the front of the tiny shorts that he was wearing. A small voice inside his head started wondering what the fuck it was he was doing but Charles willed it to go away. 

This was consensual. Money wasn't changing hands for sex. These boys were doing this because they wanted to. No one was forcing them to do a thing. And besides, it was just dancing. Obviously Sebastian was used to having whoever that was put their hand down the front of his pants. Things were just fine. 

“Are you enjoying this?” Erik whispered in his ear, and Charles nodded. “Good. Just let me know when you want to leave, alright?”

Charles nodded again, turning his attention back to the stage and concentrating on what was happening in front of him. He was going to have fun.

**********

Erik could still hear the faint thumping of the club's music as he and Charles climbed the stairs up to the loft. He reached the door at the top of them and tried to open it, sighing when it wouldn't move. He patted down his pockets until he discovered which one the keys were in, pulling them out and searching through them for the correct one. He was just about to put the key in the lock when he heard someone slump against the back of the door.

“Whoever you are, leave me the fuck alone!”

“Hank,” Erik said softly, putting the keys back in his pocket. “It's just me and Charles.”

There was silence for a few moments and Erik started to reach into his pocket once more, but then the telltale sound of the deadbolt being undone echoed through the staircase. Erik grasped the doorknob and this time it turned, slowly pushing the door open in case Hank was still standing behind it. He led Charles into the apartment, closing the door behind them and redoing the locks so that no one else would disturb them.

“How's the party?” Hank slurred, collapsing down onto the sofa and reaching towards the bottle on the table. 

“Charles,” Erik said softly. “Do you mind letting me talk to Hank alone for a few moments?”

“Of course,” Charles said. “I'll just go into the bedroom.”

“That's fine,” Erik said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. He headed towards the sofa and sat down next to Hank. “The club is as loud and crazy as ever.”

“Sorry I disappeared,” Hank mumbled, pouring some of the whiskey into both their glasses. “Didn't feel like partying.”

Erik took his glass from Hank and pressed a kiss to his friend's temple. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Hank said, knocking back his drink and sinking down into the sofa's cushions.

“Okay then,” Erik said, leaning back and sipping at his drink. “We won't.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Hank slumped against Erik's side, resting his head on Erik's shoulder. “She's not going to come back this time.”

“I know, baby,” Erik said softly, wrapping an arm around Hank's shoulders. “I'm sorry.”

Hank sighed heavily and stared at his glass, swirling around the ice cubes inside of it. “No, you're not. You hated her towards the end for all this dicking around that she was doing.”

“I did not,” Erik tried to protest, sighing when Hank glared at him. “Alright, fine, I did. But I certainly don't hate you and so I'm sorry.”

“I know.” Hank leaned forward and set his glass on the table before standing up and running his hands through his hair. “Do you need to go back down to the club or...”

“No,” Erik said, setting his glass next to Hank's on the table. “They can handle things. Scott knew I was coming up here with Charles, so they'll know I'm gone.”

“Oh, fuck, Charles,” Hank suddenly exclaimed. “I am so sorry, Erik, I didn't even think. I'll go home now. I promise.”

“Bullshit,” Erik said, reaching up and pulling Hank back down to the sofa. “Charles is staying in the spare so I'll get you a pillow and a blanket. But you're not going fucking anywhere. Is that clear?”

Hank nodded and slumped into Erik's side again. “You're never going to leave me, are you?”

“No, baby,” Erik said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Hank's head. “I'm not going anywhere. You couldn't fucking get rid of me if you tried.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Erik whispered, pulling away from Hank and standing up. “I'll be right back, okay?”

Hank nodded and Erik grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the table, quickly heading into his room and grabbing a pillow and a blanket. After making sure that Hank was situated on the sofa, he reached towards the side table and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “Goodnight, Hank.”

“Night, Erik.”

Erik turned and walked into the spare bedroom, finding Charles sitting on the edge of the bed swallowing something down. “Taking a hit?”

“Had to,” Charles said, putting the glass of water on the bedside table. “Hands were starting to shake.”

“Have you thought about getting off the drugs?” Erik asked carefully, coming to sit next to him. “Because I can help you with that if you'd like.”

Charles let out a hollow laugh. “I'm so addicted it would probably take a stint at a rehab clinic.”

“That could be arranged.”

Charles whipped his head around and stared at him for a moment. “What?” he finally said.

“If you want to go to a rehab clinic and get clean I will pay for it.”

Charles blinked a few times. “What?”

“I want to help you, Charles,” Erik said strongly. “If paying for you to go to rehab will help you, then that's something that I will do.”

Charles felt his throat tighten. “You don't mean that.”

“I mean every word of it.”

“Erik, that would be really expensive.”

“So will be paying to keep up your drug habit,” Erik said seriously. “But whatever you want to do is fine. Either you go to rehab or I keep paying for your drugs. I know which one I would prefer but this isn't my choice to make.”

“I can pay for my own drugs once I start getting paid,” Charles said quickly. “Or, at least, I think I'll be able to.”

“With as much as I had to pay for that shit last night, I somehow doubt it,” Erik said, shaking his head. “Regardless, it's entirely up to you. You can do whatever you want.”

Charles swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in his throat. “You really do want to help me, don't you?”

“Yes,” Erik said softly, “I do.”

“I'll think about it,” Charles said after a few moments. “But I make no promises. I quite like how I feel when I'm high.”

“Most addicts say that,” Erik said, smiling at him. “But enough about this. Did you like the show?”

“It was interesting,” Charles mumbled. “Never seen anything like that before.”

“Well, then you'll just have to come down to the club and see it again.”

“I had a lot to drink.”

“I know you did. I'm currently concerned about the fact that you're getting high on top of that.”

“It'll be fine,” Charles said. “I just don't think I'm going to be sober by the time I'm supposed to be at work. Hank said something about six a.m. I think.”

“No one else is going to be sober either, so don't worry,” Erik said. “But I think you need to get some sleep.”

“It'll be awhile before I pass out,” Charles said, standing up and stumbling to the front of the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Erik asked, eyes widening when Charles dropped down to the floor. “Charles?”

“Like to lay on the floor when I'm high,” Charles mumbled. “I'm fine.”

“You sure? Because I will let you be if you are.”

“I am, I promise,” Charles said.

Erik stood up and grabbed one of the pillows off the bed, walking over to where Charles was and laying it next to him. “The floor is hard so here's a pillow. Please try to get some sleep, okay?”

Charles blinked up at him and smiled. “I will, don't worry.”

“I can't help but worry about you, Charles,” Erik said. “Lights on or off?”

“Off.”

“Then I will see you in the morning,” Erik said, walking towards the door. “Or, well, later this morning.”

“Mm hm,” Charles hummed as Erik turned off the lights. “See you then.”

**********

Bobby stared at the coffeemaker and poked the red button. “I know I fucking know how to use this piece of shit.”

“Yeah, but you're not usually trying to use it while you're drunk,” Sean said, pushing Erik out of the way and pulling out the filter. “Putting some coffee grounds in it would be a good place to start.”

Bobby groaned and walked around the counter, heading towards the table where everyone else had gathered. “Don't fucking patronize me and just make some fucking coffee, okay?”

John looked up as Bobby collapsed onto the chair next to him and he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Babe, maybe you should go home and sleep.”

“No,” Bobby groaned, dropping his head onto John's shoulder. “If Hank got half as drunk as Kitty suspects he did, then he won't be down here at all today and someone's going to have to run the place. Erik won't be up until at least two.”

“What's the deal with that anyway?” Theresa asked from the other side of the table. “I miss everything out at the door. Well, besides Raven walking out.”

Everyone turned towards the end of the table, groaning when Vanessa held the newspaper she was reading up to block their stares. Bobby reached over and ripped the paper out of her hands, throwing it onto the table behind him. “Come on, Vanessa. Talk.”

“Why does everyone automatically think that I know what went on every time Raven and Hank have a fight?” Vanessa asked, standing up and going to get her newspaper back.

“Um, because you're usually the only witness to them?” Jubilee said, grabbing the newspaper out of Vanessa's hands as she sat back down. “I mean, we can see the fights from the bar but you're there in the booth with them. You can hear what they say.”

Vanessa sighed and leaned back in the chair, running her hands over her eyes. “Well, I wasn't there for this one. Raven kicked me out of the booth and paged Erik, Raven paged me to come back to the booth, and when I got there, Erik was the one spinning and Raven was gone.”

“But Erik had to have said something to you,” John said. “I mean, you had to be both you and Raven last night.”

“He asked me if I'd spin the whole night and I said yes,” Vanessa said, grabbing her newspaper back from Jubilee. “And then he told me that Raven's job was mine if I wanted it.”

“Erik offered you Raven's job?” Jubilee and Theresa exclaimed at the same time, prompting Bobby and John to laugh.

“Yes,” Vanessa said, glancing at her watch and then folding the newspaper up. “Shit, I'm going to miss my fucking train. Wade has to be at work an hour early today.”

“But you can't leave now!” Jubilee exclaimed. “Don't you realize what this means?”

“It means that you bitches have something to gossip about all day while I'm at home taking a nap,” Vanessa said, ruffling Jubilee's hair and making her squeal. 

Bobby's attempt at saying goodbye as Vanessa walked away was interrupted by Sean nearly dropping the stack of cups he was carrying onto the table. “Fuck, I think I had more to drink than I thought.”

Bobby groaned and grabbed the cups out of Sean's hands. “Cassidy, these are empty.”

“Fucking hell, Bobby,” Sean said, taking the cups and passing them around. “I didn't realize you got so stupid when you're drunk. Of course they are empty. I cannot carry more than two full cups of coffee without spilling them.”

Bobby rolled his eyes as Sean headed back towards the counter. “It's called a tray, Sean!”

“Do I look like a fucking waiter to you?” Sean called back. “Put Charles in front of me with a tray and I'll put cups of coffee on it. Otherwise, shut the fuck up!”

Bobby frowned and looked around the restaurant. “Where the fuck is Charles, anyway?”

“I'm right here,” Charles said, slowly walking towards the table. “Erik and Hank are still sleeping so I came down here.”

“Well, you had to be at work at six and it's,” Bobby squinted at his phone, “five fifty-nine, so congratulations, you're on time.”

Charles ducked his head and sat down next to Bobby, ignoring the look on Sebastian's face. “I didn't know anyone was down here. I would have come down sooner if I had.”

“Yeah, beautiful, we always have a little meetup in the morning before the restaurant opens,” Sebastian said. “You should come to them. They're fun.”

Bobby just rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Charles's shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Don't pay any attention to him.”

“Hey!” Sebastian called out, tossing a sugar packet across the table. “John, tell your bitch wife to be nicer to me.”

“If you like your job, I would suggest never referring to Bobby that way again,” John said, picking up the sugar packet and throwing it back at Sebastian hard. “And I believe Erik told you to knock it off.”

Sebastian just rolled his eyes. “I can't even invite him to our little sober ups now? That's fucking bullshit.”

“Just ignore him,” Sean said, setting the pot of coffee down on the table. “How many more cups do we need? One? And nobody better start bitching about breakfast because I'm too drunk to make an omelette right now. You are fucking lucky you got coffee.”

Sebastian went to say something but John kicked him hard underneath the table, and he huffed loudly before standing up. “Charles can have my cup. I'm fucking leaving before I have to take more of this abuse from my so-called friends.”

Bobby and John both sighed as Sebastian stalked out of the restaurant. “Fuck, that's going to be a problem, isn't it?” John murmured. 

“What is?” Charles asked quietly. 

“Yeah, what is?” Jubilee asked, snatching the sugar packet off the table and opening it. “I don't get what the deal is at all. Sebastian is always looking for new conquests.”

“The deal is that he makes Charles really uncomfortable,” Bobby said, his voice far more sober than he actually was. “And there are reasons for that which only Erik and Charles know, and it's going to stay that way until Charles says otherwise. So don't even try to get it out of him.”

Jubilee stared across the table at Charles for a moment before it dawned on her. “Oh, so Charles is the new pet project, not the new fling. Got it, got it.”

“New fling?” John asked.

“Yeah, so many people came up to the bar last night wanting to know who Erik's new fling is,” Jubilee said, dumping the sugar into her cup and reaching for the coffee pot. “Said he was front and center for the show with some hot young thing. Had no idea it was the new pet project so I just said I didn't know.”

“Great,” Bobby groaned, tilting his head back. “Fuck, word to leave Charles the fuck alone better spread fast before anyone even tries to do what Sebastian is up to.”

“It's alright,” Charles said softly. “It just makes me uncomfortable.”

“And that means it isn't alright,” John said, shaking his head as Sean finally sat down. “Do you want me to make breakfast, Sean?”

Sean stared across the table for a moment. “You know how to make breakfast?”

“I'm not an idiot,” John said, brushing a kiss along Bobby's temple before standing up. “Alright, you're getting scrambled eggs and that's it, but you really need to sober up and I think food will probably help with that.”

Bobby snagged John's wrist as he started to walk away and pulled at his arm, smiling when John bent down and kissed him. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“You're welcome, baby,” John said before walking away.

Bobby turned back to the table and smiled at them all. “How about we start telling Charles about ourselves? If we can remember anything.”

Sean just rolled his eyes. “Bobby apparently forgets everything he knows when he's drunk. So just play along until he's sober, Charles.”

Bobby reached across the table and smacked Sean. “Fuck off.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Well, no, but fuck off.”

Sean grinned. “Thank you for admitting that I'm right about something. I will now hold this over your head until the end of time.”

“Fuck,” Bobby groaned as everyone else laughed. “What did I just do?”

“It's your own fault,” Sean pointed out before smiling at Charles. “So, what do you say? A little round of get to know you?”

Charles just nodded. “So long as I don't have to say anything I don't want to.”

“Don't worry, gorgeous,” Theresa said. “If you don't want to answer, just say so.”

“Then okay,” Charles said, reaching for the coffee. “But someone else starts first.”

“Deal.”


	6. Chapter 6

The conversation at the table fell into a hush when the staircase door banged open and Erik walked through it. He glanced over to find everyone staring at him and, really, that was the last thing he needed right now. “What the fuck are you bitches fucking staring at?”

“Morning, darling,” Sean said, pausing to press a kiss to Erik's lips as he passed. “Did you want some coffee? I just made some more.”

“No,” he said, glancing towards the front door. “And someone needs to do their motherfucking job and open the restaurant. It's after seven.”

Bobby started to stand up as Erik disappeared into the kitchen, but John put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. “No, I'll do it.”

“It's not your job, Johnny,” Bobby said, trying to stand up again.

“Bobby, sit down,” John commanded, pushing him back down. “You need to drink more coffee and sober up some more. I'll go open the door.”

John grabbed the keys from Bobby's hands and headed towards the door, unlocking it and saying a silent prayer of thanks for the fact that no one was waiting outside. He bypassed the table and headed into the kitchen, leaning up against the door and watching Erik rummage through the cabinets.

“I take it they all know what happened,” Erik said, closing the cabinets and bending down to search through the pans.

“Of course they do,” John said, cringing when Erik slammed a pan down on the stove. “How's Hank?”

“A motherfucking mess, just like he always is when Raven acts like the stone cold bitch that she is,” Erik said, staring down at the pan before knocking it to the floor. “Fuck.”

John took a deep breath and shifted against the door, knowing that if he stood there long enough Erik would eventually start talking.

“This is about the worst possible of all times for this to have happened, you know that?” Erik sighed heavily and slid down to the floor, leaning back against the stove and kicking the table across from him. “I should have known that she would do this, but she's been so involved in the guest DJs project that I never thought she wouldn't stick around for it.”

John walked over and sat down beside Erik. “So she's gone for good, hm?”

“Yes,” Erik said, running his hands through his hair. “Hank locked himself in the loft to get drunk and was an absolute wreck by the time Charles and I made it up there. He doesn't want to talk about it this morning, which is of course the thing he needs to do the most, and so I just told him to go back to sleep and came down here. I feel so awful for him, John. I don't think he thought that she'd really leave for good either.”

John sighed and glanced towards the door, his eyes widening slightly when they noticed Hank standing there, bottle of whiskey in his hand. “I heard the noise and...”

“I dropped something,” Erik said, waving Hank over. “Come sit down.”

“I think I'm going to go see if Sean's got any coffee left,” John said, brushing a kiss across the top of Erik's head before standing up. He stopped when he reached Hank and gave him a brief kiss before disappearing out the door.

Hank took a deep breath and stumbled over to where Erik was sitting, collapsing down next to him. “You look like you could use some of this,” he said, holding out the bottle.

Erik sighed and grabbed it, bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. “I know you think that I self-destruct sometimes, but you drink even more than I do when you do.”

Hank let out a hollow laugh. “Kitty calls me an alcoholic.”

“She's probably right.” Erik took another drink. “So can we talk about Raven now?”

“Do we really have to?” Hank asked, sighing deeply.

Erik set the bottle on the floor and turned towards Hank, grabbing him underneath the chin and making him look at him. “I cannot have you getting this smashed and not being able to do your job all the time. I should be fucking passed out dead to the world right now and instead I'm going to have to do your job today.”

Hank sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Look, Erik, I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” Erik gave him a confused look. “What the fuck are you sorry for?”

“Well, Raven and I have brilliant timing, don't we?” Hank said quietly, not looking at him. “Ten years of back and forth and it finally ends on one of the biggest nights of the year, in the middle of your club, and when you've got a new pet project to be concentrating on. So I'm sorry.”

Erik sighed heavily. “Hank, the timing of this is not your fault. Raven's the bitch who did this, not you.”

Hank leaned back against the stove. “Some of the stuff Raven said made me think a lot before you came up last night, and it got me all philosophical and wondering what love really means. And then after you left me a little while ago, I started thinking about all of it again. I loved her, but did I really love her? I'm not sure. I think I need to sober up and a week from now when I realize I've barely noticed she's gone then I'll have my answer.”

“The way you barely notice she's gone?” Erik leaned back as well, sighing when Hank's head came to rest on his shoulder. 

“I'm just...I'm never going to get one of these relationships right, am I? I mean, ten motherfucking years and I couldn't even get it right.”

“Hank,” Erik said softly, reaching up to run his fingers through Hank's hair. “You got it right, honey. It just wasn't meant to last.”

“We never lived together. We never even fucking lived together. Ten motherfucking years and we never even discussed the possibility. What kind of fucking relationship is that?” Hank took a deep breath and reached for the bottle, but Erik grabbed his hand before he could reach it. “Erik, I want another drink.”

“And I don't want to watch you self-destruct anymore because of that bitch, okay?” Erik pulled Hank's arm to him and kissed the inside of his wrist. “She's not worth it, Hank.”

Hank jerked his hand away. “Just because you hate her now doesn't mean she's not worth it.”

“I hate her for some pretty big reasons, you know,” Erik said. “And you always deserved better than the way she treated you. Fight after fight, times when we'd stood there and watched her pick up some trade right in front of you, weeks when she just wouldn't call.”

“I know all of that. I know. But she loved me. I know she fucking loved me.”

“There are lots of people who love you, darling, and we don't treat you like that.”

Hank sat there for a moment before laughing. “Fucking hell, I'm a motherfucking mess, aren't I?”

“Nah,” Erik said, kicking the bottle out of reach when Hank's hand went for it again. “We've known each other for too long for me to believe that.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Erik said, smiling. “We think we know what we're doing but in reality we're still just those two new employees of Station Thirty pretending we know what the fuck it is we're doing. Yes, Raven has been a part of that for a very long time now, but Hank, you lived without her before. You will live without her now.”

“So what do you suggest that I do then?”

“The same thing you've done with everything else. Go with it,” Erik said, turning and pressing a kiss to the top of Hank's head. “And if that doesn't work out, then we'll deal with it. We've put up with each other for fifteen years, Hank. I'm not about to let you destroy yourself over this.”

“Thank you,” Hank whispered. “I really need to go back to sleep, I think.”

“I think that's a good idea,” Erik said, getting them both up. “Don't worry about work today, okay? Just go into my room and go to sleep. You'll sleep better if you're on a bed instead of the sofa.”

“Okay,” Hank said, letting Erik lead him towards the stairs. “But can I have the whiskey back?”

“No,” Erik said firmly. “You need to sober up, not get even more fucked up.”

“Fine, fine.”

**********

Bobby stared across the counter at Emma and blinked. “Why are you here?”

“Um, because my shift starts in five minutes?” Emma tilted her head slightly. “Are you drunk?”

Bobby started to shake his head no, but that just made the pain worse so he stopped in mid-shake. “I don't think so. Not anymore at least. Definitely hungover though.”

Emma rolled her eyes and walked behind the counter, stuffing her purse below the cash register. Bobby stared at her for a moment before slumping against the counter. “Wait, why are you here?”

“Because it's five minutes to three and last time I checked that meant my shift was about to start?” Emma put her hand on Bobby's forehead. “Bobby, are you sure you're alright? Because, I mean, you know this stuff.”

“Bobby turns into an idiot when he's drunk,” Sean said, putting the omelette he'd just finished making on a plate and then handing it to Bobby. “Sit, eat, and then go find some aspirin.”

Bobby stared at the plate for a moment before sighing. “I'm not hungry.”

“I don't motherfucking care,” Sean exclaimed, pushing Bobby around the counter and onto one of the stools. “Eat the fucking omelette. It will make your head feel better.”

Bobby sighed and set the plate down, running his hands through his hair. “I'm not sure Charles knows his shift is over.”

“Charles went upstairs about an hour ago,” Sean said.

“Why did Charles go upstairs? He doesn't live here.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake, sober up so you can remember shit, please? It was cute this morning but it's just motherfucking annoying now,” Sean said, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice. “Water or soda, baby?”

“Water,” Bobby mumbled, staring down at his plate. “So why did Charles go upstairs?”

“I'll do you one better,” Emma interjected. “Who the fuck is Charles?”

“Charles is the new waiter,” Sean said, setting the glass in front of Bobby. “He's also Erik's new pet project.”

Emma slapped Sean on the shoulder. “Why didn't you lead with that?”

“Fuck you, Frost,” Sean said, rubbing at his shoulder. “It really doesn't matter what order I said things in. Charles is Erik's new pet project and he's currently staying with Erik, hence why he went upstairs.”

“When did this happen?” Emma squealed. 

Sean sighed dramatically. “This is what you get for not fucking showing up yesterday, Emma.”

“I had other obligations, bitch. So what's the backstory?”

“That is none of your business,” came Erik's voice, and they all turned to see him walk into the room. “Not until Charles decides to share it. Now would you two stop fucking bitching, please?”

“I agree with Erik,” Bobby muttered, burying his head in his hands. “Stop your bitching.”

Erik just shook his head. “Bobby, go home and get some sleep. I've got this. Sean, please go make me an omelette, and Emma, go do whatever it is you do when there are no customers. And that's an order.”

**********

Charles was in Erik's office when Erik came in, and Erik quickly realized that Charles was looking at the copies of fake IDs that were up on the wall. “Oh, honey, some of those are classics.”

Charles let his eyes dance over them, looking at the IDs and the names written on them before he came to a pair that said Jubilee and Theresa's names. “Jubilee and Theresa?”

“Oh yes,” Erik said, walking over to him. “Jubilee and Theresa were seventeen when they first tried to get into the club. I was hiring for bartenders then and they were going to try to lie about their ages and abilities in order to get the jobs. Those are the IDs they used that night.”

Charles smiled. “Jubilee's says that she is a thirty-four-year-old Russian man.”

Erik laughed. “As I said, classics. This is the wall of the worst fake IDs we've ever seen.”

“So what's the rest of the story with Jubilee and Theresa?” Charles asked. “I mean, they obviously came back here.”

“They've been here ever since that night,” Erik said, walking over to his desk. “Their attempt to get into the club was so audacious and their subsequent explanation turned them into a pet project. I couldn't hire them to be bartenders obviously, not only for their age but for the fact that they couldn't mix a fucking thing, but I could hire them to work in the restaurant so I did. Took them in for awhile too. They were a pet project, just like you.”

“Took them in?”

Erik nodded as he sat down. “Jubilee and Theresa have been in a relationship since they were fifteen. They didn't tell their parents about that or the fact that they were lesbians until they turned seventeen, and their parents reacted in a really horribly awful manner and kicked them both out. They bounced around hostels for awhile until they ran out of money, and their attempt to get hired here was their last option. If I hadn't taken them in that night, they would have been sleeping on the streets.”

“You really do have pet projects, don't you?” Charles said, coming to sit down on the other side of Erik's desk. “I thought they were kidding about that.”

“No, they're not,” Erik said, smiling at him. “I told you, I believe people deserve second chances. I'm more than happy to give them one.”

“I don't know why you're giving me one,” Charles said quietly. “I don't deserve it.”

“You deserve the world, Charles,” Erik stressed. “And I will help give it to you.”

Charles nodded meekly. “If you say so.”

“Can I ask you some questions about your life?” Erik asked. “Get to know you a little bit?”

Charles sat there for a few moments before answering. “I guess. If I don't want to answer, then I won't. Is that okay?”

“Charles, whatever you want to do is okay. I'm starting to get the feeling that you didn't even get to make your own decisions.”

“That's because I didn't,” Charles murmured. “Cain was very specific in how he ran things. You wear these clothes and you take these drugs and you stand on this street corner for as long as I tell you to. I didn't get to decide anything.”

“So he's the one that got you hooked?”

“He's the one that got me into this to begin with,” Charles mumbled.

“Do you want to talk about that? Because if you don't, I can move on to a different subject.”

“It's fine,” Charles whispered. “It's just hard.”

“I am not pushing you, Charles. If you don't want to talk about it, then we don't have to.”

Charles just shook his head. “I had to get away from my mother. My father, he died when I was a kid, and she just turned into an abusive drunk. It was never physical, only verbal, but it was just too much to take. So I came here. After awhile, my bank accounts disappeared, which I assume is because they still had her name on them. So I had no money and nowhere to go. Cain found me wandering the streets one night and told me he had a way for me to make some quick money. I was desperate. The rest is history.”

“How old were you when that happened?”

Charles took a deep breath. “Sixteen.”

Erik's eyes went wide. “And how old are you now?”

“Twenty-six.”

Erik's eyes went even wider. “Ten years? You did that for ten years?”

Charles flinched at the tone of Erik's voice. “I told you, I was desperate and after that I had no choice.”

Erik's eyes immediately softened and he stood up and walked around the desk, crouching down next to Charles's chair. “I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just surprised, that's all.”

When Charles didn't say anything, Erik continued. “If you were doing that for ten years, then I'm really, really glad that I found you that night and that you eventually came back here. And I mean that sincerely.”

“I don't know how to be anyone but this person that sells themselves, Erik,” Charles said quietly. “I know you're trying to make me not be him, but that's who I am. I'm nothing more than a whore.”

“No, you're not,” Erik said strongly. “You are Charles Xavier and you are a person that matters. You're going through some struggles right now, but Charles, this will all be worth it in the end. You're going to realize that you have more value than Cain ever taught you. He tore you down. I'm going to build you back up. I don't care if that takes weeks or months or years. I am going to remind you of who you really are.”

“Why do you have so much faith that you can do that?” Charles whispered. “How can you possibly do that?”

“You will not be the first person I've had to do this with. The others might not have been selling themselves, but there have been plenty of people here before that I have been just as broken as you are, and I have taken the time to give them everything I can to help them repair themselves. I understand why you don't trust me, Charles. But I'm going to ask you to give me time to earn that trust. I am fully confident that I'll be able to help you if you just let me.”

Charles turned to look at Erik and Erik reached up to wipe away the tear tracks on Charles's cheeks. “Okay.”

Erik smiled. “Okay?”

“I'm giving it a chance. I'm giving you a chance. I don't know where else I'd go anyway.”

“You are welcome here as long as you want,” Erik said seriously. “When you get to that point of wanting to live on your own, I'll gladly help you find an apartment near here and get you all set up in it. Just ask Sean about it. I did the same thing with him.”

“I don't know if I'm comfortable doing that.”

“Then don't. I want you to do what you are comfortable with,” Erik said. “I want you to remember that you have choices that you are allowed to make.”

“Like staying on the drugs no matter how much I can tell that you hate that?”

“Like staying on the drugs no matter how much I hate that,” Erik confirmed. “But the moment you decide you don't want do be on them anymore, let me know and I will do whatever it takes to help you get clean.”

“Thank you,” Charles breathed out. “I can never repay you for this kindness you're showing me.”

“You don't have to. That's the point.” Charles swallowed hard nodded, so Erik stood up. “Are you hungry? It's about seven so dinner's been being served in the restaurant for awhile now. I can have them make us something.”

“It's not a problem.”

“I'm asking if you're hungry, Charles. Being hungry is not a problem.”

Charles forced himself to take a deep breath. “Sorry. I'm not used to being able to eat regular meals. I thought breakfast this morning was enough.”

“No wonder you're so skinny,” Erik said, reaching for Charles's hand. “Come on. I'll grab a menu and you can get whatever you want off of it, okay? Don't pay attention to the prices. That doesn't matter.”

Charles took Erik's hand and stood, giving him a shaky smile. “That sounds good, Erik. Thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Charles looked around when a man walked into the restaurant, swallowing hard when he noticed that no one else was in the room. Taking a deep breath, he set down the tray he was holding and walked over to him, reminding himself of what Hank had told him to say. "Hello. Welcome to Genosha. Have you ever been here before?"

The man laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

"We don't usually get men in suits, I think," Charles said, reaching behind him for a menu. "I'm Charles. I'll get your order when you're ready."

"Nice to meet you, Charles," the man said, taking the menu from him. "Do I just sit anywhere?"

Charles silently cursed himself for forgetting that. "Anywhere you want."

"Thank you." 

The man walked off to a table and Charles forced himself to take several deep breaths, turning back to the counter and seeing Hank walk into the room. He quickly walked over there and tried to smile when Hank looked at him. "He walked in and I tried to remember what you told me to say but I forgot to tell him to sit anywhere, and I'm sorry."

"Charles," Hank said gently. "It's okay."

"But I forgot to tell him."

Hank felt his heart break at the concern on Charles's face. "Is he sitting down now?"

"Yes."

"Then that's all that matters," Hank said, walking around the counter. "I think you need a hug."

Charles nodded and then Hank carefully wrapped his arms around him, squeezing lightly. "I promise you, Charles. You did absolutely nothing wrong. We all forget things every once and a while."

Charles took a deep breath and nodded when Hank pulled back. "I'll try to remember that."

Hank just smiled at him. "You're getting more comfortable by the day, Charles. It's a great thing to see. You'll have this down in no time."

Bobby walked into the room and his gaze hit the man before it could land on Hank and Charles. He froze in place, studying the new customer very carefully. "Did he just come in here?"

"Yeah," Charles said, confused. "Why?"

"Don't worry about it." Bobby shook his head and took a deep breath before heading over to the table, tilting his head to the left as he got closer. "Piotr?"

The man looked up and a wide smile crossed his face. "Bobby!"

"Fucking hell, I thought that was you!" Bobby laughed as Piotr stood up and pulled him into a hug. "What the fuck are you doing in New York, honey?"

"I got transferred," Piotr said, letting go of Bobby and sitting down again. "I've been here for a couple of weeks. I saw a flyer for John's party and figured this was the place to find you guys."

"You can say that again. I feel like we fucking live here," Bobby laughed again. "Johnny is going to go fucking crazy when he sees you. He's not here right now because he's doing a party in Long Island tonight, but you'll have to come back when he is."

"Definitely," Piotr said, smiling. "God, Bobby, it's good to see you."

Bobby looked up when the door opened and his smile faded when he saw Sebastian walk in. "Fuck."

Sebastian heard him but didn't care, walking straight up to Charles and moving to kiss him, frowning when Charles turned away. "What?"

"I have told you, I don't want to do that," Charles got out. "Can't you please leave me alone?"

Sebastian sighed. "I'm just trying to be friendly, darling. We all always kiss each other."

"Maybe someday I'll be comfortable with that but not right now," Charles said, taking a deep breath. "So can you please remember that?"

"You know, one of these days I'm going to get the story of this motherfucker that hurt you so badly out of you," Sebastian said seriously. "And then I'm going to track him down and kick the shit out of him."

Charles shook his head. "No, you're not."

"We'll see about that."

"Charles!" Bobby called out. "Get Sean to make Piotr today's special!"

"Got it," Charles called back, searching through his apron for the order book. "You want anything, Sebastian?"

"You," Sebastian muttered softly, shaking his head and smiling. "No, beautiful, I've got to get out to Long Island. I just came by to see you."

Charles frowned and pulled the order book out, grabbing a pen off the counter and writing out the order. "You sure?"

"Positive," Sebastian said, quickly leaning over and kissing Charles before spinning around and walking out the door.

Charles took a moment to recover before tearing the slip off the order book and walking around the counter, hanging up the order just as Sean came out of the back. "Order, Sean."

"It'll be up soon," Sean said, reaching for the slip before realizing that Charles was trembling. "Hey, you okay? You look petrified."

"Sebastian," Charles murmured and Sean shook his head.

"He's a fucking prick, just remember that," Sean said, smiling at him. "Hug?"

Charles nodded and Sean wrapped his arms around him, squeezing tight. "I'll get Erik to talk to him again, okay? He's got to stop this."

"It's fine," Charles said softly. "I've got to get used to this kind of stuff."

"You do not have to get used to being harassed," Sean said firmly, letting go of him and looking Charles in the eyes. "And Sebastian isn't listening to what you're saying, so therefore he's harassing you."

"I'll talk to Erik myself, okay?" Charles said, walking away from Sean and heading over to where Bobby and Piotr were. "I just realized that I never got a drink order from you, sir."

"Sir?" Piotr laughed. "It's Piotr. And just bring me some water."

Charles nodded and went to leave, but Bobby's hand came up and gently grasped his wrist. "Did he do it again?"

Charles nodded before pulling his arm free and walking away, leaving Bobby sitting there shaking his head. "That's going to be a serious problem."

"What is? And who was that guy?" Piotr asked.

Bobby ran his hands over his face and sighed. "That's the star of Johnny's parties. And I will tell you what is going on over lunch if you promise to tell me what's going on with this transfer. I thought you'd never live in New York."

**********

Erik nodded at Sean in thanks as he set the cup of coffee in front of him. "I like the pumps today."

"Oh, aren't they fabulous?" Sean exclaimed, lifting up his leg and waving his foot around. "So shimmery and sparkly."

"They're gorgeous, honey," Erik said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a five dollar bill. "Go run across the street and buy me some mints, will you?"

"Sure thing, boss," Sean said, grabbing the money and pressing a kiss to Erik's cheek. "Same ones as always?"

"Yeah," Erik said, picking up his cup. "Make sure they aren't menthols!"

Sean nodded as he walked out the door, and Erik sipped at his coffee, sighing when Bobby sat down next to him. "Afternoon, Bobby."

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked quietly. 

Erik set his cup down and ran his hands through his hair. "He's fine. He's asleep."

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked. "Because I saw him after Sebastian showed up and he looked terrible."

"He's fine," Erik said, smiling when a pack of mints appeared in front of his face. "Thank you, Sean."

"Anytime, boss," Sean said, walking back around the counter. "Bobby, you want anything?"

"No," Bobby said, watching as Erik opened up the package and popped a mint into his mouth. "You know he's been on something all day, right?"

Erik just nodded. "I think it's going to be a while before he's not on something all day, Bobby."

"Yeah, well, I think he had a lot more than you think he did," Bobby said, pulling a plastic bag out of his pocket and setting it on the counter in front of Erik. "But there is what you requested."

Erik set the minutes down and picked up the bag. "Thank you, Bobby."

"Erik," Bobby said, sighing when Erik tucked the bag into his jacket's inside pocket. "Look, I've been known to indulge every once and a while myself, but I'm starting to get seriously worried about how often Charles is. That's the second time you've had me buy enough that should last for at least a month in the last two weeks."

"I'm working on it, Bobby," Erik sighed, picking up his coffee and mints before standing up. "I bought it, he'll finish it off, and hopefully by then, he'll be ready to stop. If not, then we'll do this again."

"And what if he's never ready to stop?" Bobby asked, jumping when he felt a pair of hands on his waist. 

"You look stressed out, baby," John said, bending down to muzzle Bobby's neck. "Maybe we should go home, hm?"

Bobby leaned back into John's embrace, tilting his head up for a kiss. "I'm at work, Johnny. I can't just leave in the middle of the afternoon."

"Well, then maybe we should lock ourselves in your office for a little while," John whispered naughtily, looking up and winking at Erik. "I'm sure Hank can handle things on his own for an hour or two."

"Johnny," Bobby started, but he was interrupted by Erik waving them away. 

"Oh, just go home and fuck him before he has to go to Long Island, Bobby. It'll make you feel better. Hank and I can handle things just fine for the rest of the day."

Erik laughed as he walked away, heading for the stairs and making his way up into the loft. He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, heading towards the spare bedroom and knocking on the door. "Charles? Are you awake?"

"Yeah," came Charles's voice, muffled through the door. "You can come in."

Erik walked into the room to find Charles shirtless on the bed, staring at the television on the wall. Erik glanced over at it and saw it was a breaking news story, confused for a moment before the headline at the bottom caught his eye. "Sharon Xavier died?"

Charles could only nod when Erik looked at him, so Erik turned his attention back to the television. He stared at Sharon's picture for a few moments before the voice of the broadcaster got through to him. 

"Xavier's fortune will be inherited by her son Charles."

Erik stood there stunned for a moment before shaking himself from it, walking towards the bed and sitting down on its edge. "Are you that Charles?"

Charles just sat there and didn't say anything, so Erik tried again. "I just want to know if that's you, Charles. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do."

"What would you do anyway?" Charles mumbled. "There's nothing that can be done."

"I don't understand what you mean by that," Erik said, his brow furrowed. 

Charles laid there for a few moments before sighing heavily. "She was a bitch. The biggest bitch you could possibly imagine. When my father was alive, it was one thing, but after he died, it was like the only thing she cared about was the drink in her hand. So I left, but I couldn't really leave entirely, so I kept sending her letters. She thinks I'm somewhere out in California getting by on my own because she cut off my money once she realized that I'd left. I didn't want to tell her I was only here in the city because I didn't want her to know what I'd become."

"Oh, Charles," Erik breathed out, reaching for his hand. "Why didn't you just go home?"

"And let her see me like this?" Charles laughed. "There was no way that could ever happen, Erik. No possible way. Besides, getting away from Cain is the hardest thing in the world. I still flinch every time the doors open because I'm sure that it's going to be him walking in to finish me off."

"Charles, I told you that I'm not going to let anything happen to you and I meant that."

"And I don't see how that's something you can say," Charles said, switching his gaze back to the television. "I never thought this would be the way that I found out that my mother died. I don't even know how she died."

"Is there someone you can contact to find out?" Charles fell silent and Erik knew that he'd hit a nerve. "She's gone, Charles. She's not around to see you like this anymore."

"She had this lawyer. I'm sure he's the one in charge of the estate until I show up to take possession of it."

"Do you want me to get in contact with him?" Erik asked softly. "Because I will on your behalf."

"I don't know about that."

"Don't you want what is rightfully yours?"

"What, the fortune?" Charles laughed. "I'll be surprised if there's anything left with the way that she spent money."

"I'd still think that was something that I'd want to find out about if I was you," Erik said. "I mean, I don't know much about your mother, but I know enough about the Xavier family from reading books to know that was a seriously large amount of money."

"You can't believe anything you read about my family in a book, Erik. Those books are always full of bullshit. And what the fuck were you doing reading a book about my family anyway? We are boring as fuck."

"Your ancestors helped establish the steel industry in this country," Erik pointed out. "I find them interesting. I don't know much about the recent generations and I don't know anything about you that you haven't told me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Erik said, smiling at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"If I hadn't just found out by chance, would you have told me?"

Charles shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, I'm not going to say anything to anyone, okay? If you want people to know then you can tell them. But I am curious if you would like me to contact this lawyer." 

Charles swallowed hard. "Do you think that's a good idea? I mean, I'm a whore, Erik."

"You are not a whore," Erik said firmly. "Stop calling yourself that."

"Then what am I?" Charles asked quietly.

"You are Charles Xavier. You are struggling with some issues right now but you have a job and a place to live, which is more than you had a few months ago. You also have a group of friends that are loyal as fuck and you have me. And I have told you on many occasions that I will do whatever I need to in order to help you," Erik said. "In fact, I have more drugs for you out in the living room, despite the fact that you are definitely taking way too much of that stuff."

Charles felt his eyes fill with tears. "What if people find out?" he whispered. "What if I have you contact this lawyer and then people find out?"

"I don't see how anyone could possibly find out," Erik said seriously. "Did anyone ever know your name besides Cain?"

Charles shook his head. "He only knew me as Charles. He said he didn't need to know my last name because I didn't have a last name anymore. I belonged to him now."

Erik felt his anger spike before he forced it back down. "Well, then no one will know anything about you. If anyone finds out about the drugs, well, you'd hardly be the first kid of an influential person to end up strung out on drugs."

"I don't want you to kick me out," Charles said quietly. "I'm afraid that doing this would make you kick me out."

"I'm not going to kick you out, Charles," Erik said, shaking his head. "Not even if you get your inheritance."

"I'll think about it," Charles said after a minute. "I'll...I'll think about it."

"That's fine, Charles. Would you like something to eat? I was about to have a late lunch and I know you likely haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

"I feel bad eating all of your food."

Erik laughed and stood up. "You are hardly eating all of my food, Charles. And you are still eating less than Sean does. That boy eats more than you can possibly imagine."

"If you're sure it's okay..."

"Charles," Erik said softly, "you wanting something to eat will always be okay."

Charles swallowed hard and sat up. "Then yeah, lunch sounds great. Thanks, Erik."

"I'll do anything for you, Charles. I mean that," Erik said, turning and walking towards the door. "Get dressed and then we'll go downstairs and get something. And don't think it has to be eggs. That might be all Sean can cook but I'm capable of making other stuff."


	8. Chapter 8

“I never would have thought that Kurt was your type,” John said, sipping at his coffee.

Piotr laughed. “Neither would I. But it's working so far.”

“Good,” John said, nodding. “I'm happy for you two.”

Piotr sighed and leaned back against the booth. “Johnny, this doesn't need to be this awkward. It was never this awkward when we ran into each other in LA.”

“I know,” John said, taking a deep breath. He looked around the restaurant and was relieved when he didn't see Bobby standing around. “Look, Piotr, since you're going to be around a lot now, I think you should know that Bobby doesn't know.”

“About Kurt? Yes, he does,” Piotr said, confused.

“No, not that,” John said, looking Piotr in the eyes. “Bobby doesn't know about the thing that makes this conversation awkward.”

Piotr nearly dropped his cup out of shock. “You never told him?”

“Do you have any idea how much that would hurt him?” John said quickly, scanning the restaurant with his eyes again. “He knows that he's not the only one I've ever been with, but he thinks they were all before I met him.”

“Well, the first time was before you met him,” Piotr said, tilting his head slightly to the right. “Wasn't it?”

John sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well...”

Piotr stared at him for a moment before setting his coffee down and leaning forward. “John Allerdyce, tell me that the first time you and I fucked was before you met Bobby.”

“Um, it was before the first time I fucked Bobby?” John offered, groaning. “I think.”

Piotr's jaw dropped and he could only stare as Sean walked over to the table, setting two plates in front of them. “Scrambled eggs and bacon, and one of Bobby's favorite omelets for his darling, devoted husband. I'll take compliments for the food and no complaints about the service, because it's Emma's day off, and Hank's day off, and Charles is nowhere to be found, and I'm not a motherfucking waiter.”

“Thank you, Sean,” John said as Sean walked away, grabbing his napkin and unwrapping the silverware from inside it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Piotr exclaimed. “No, don't answer that. I don't want to feel any more guilty than I already do.”

“You don't have any reason to feel guilty,” John said, putting his napkin in his lap. “You just need to stay quiet about it.”

“You don't fucking say,” Piotr said sarcastically, reaching for his own napkin. “I knew you were a motherfucking bastard back then but I didn't know I was helping you fucking cheat on him.”

“I wasn't motherfucking cheating on him. Bobby and I fucked for a good three or four months before we decided that what we had was something to take a bit more seriously.”

Piotr sighed and poked at his eggs with his fork. “I'm never going to be able to look Bobby in the eyes again.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” John said, setting his fork down. “You've known for years that you and I fucked a few times after I first hooked up with Bobby and you've never had any trouble looking him in the eyes before.”

“But I thought he knew! You two are supposed to be so motherfucking committed to each other that I assumed that you would have told him about all of that by now!”

“Yeah, because that's a conversation that would have gone over well,” John said, sighing. “Look, just don't say anything, alright? There's no reason for him to know.”

Piotr sat there for a moment before sighing. “Fine.”

“And no telling Kurt either.”

Piotr rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell, I'm not that stupid.”

“Just making sure.”

John looked up when Charles approached the table, a nervous look on his face. “I'm sorry that I wasn't around to take the food to your table. I'll make sure it never happens again.”

“Charles,” John said softly. “It's fine. We got our food.”

“But I was supposed to do it and I didn't,” Charles said desperately. “I'm so, so sorry, John.”

John slid out of the booth and stood up, getting Charles to look at him. “It's okay, Charles. No one is angry.”

“But you should be.”

John just shook his head. “No, Charles. No one should be angry about that. I bet Sean isn't even angry. Have you talked to him about that?”

Charles shook his head violently. “I didn't want to make him more angry.”

John felt his heart break at the worry and apprehension in Charles's eyes. “Charles, it's fine. I promise. And I think you need a hug.”

Charles stood there for a moment before nodding and then John drew him into his arms, giving him a big hug. “Thank you,” Charles murmured.

“You can have all the hugs you want, Charles,” John said, letting go of him after a few moments. “And I promise you, no one is mad at you.”

Charles nodded and took a deep breath, giving John a shaky smile before turning towards the table. “Do you two need anything?”

“I could take some more orange juice,” Piotr said, holding out his glass. 

Charles nodded and took the glass, racing away toward the counter as John sat back down. Piotr peered at him across the table for a moment before John sighed. “I don't know the backstory so don't ask, but Charles came from a really rough situation and trying to get him comfortable here is a bit of a chore. It'll be worth it though.”

“He seems very nice, if very skittish.”

“He's great, really. He hasn't let us get to know him very much, but what all of us do know we really like. Just be nice to him alright? Especially if he screws something up. He seems to think he'll be punished for it.”

“Punished?”

“Punished.”

Piotr just nodded. “Then I'll be the nicest guy in the world.”

“Good,” John said as Charles walked back up to the table and set Piotr's glass down. “Thank you, Charles.”

“You're welcome,” Charles said softly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I don't think so,” John said, smiling at him. “You're doing great, Charles. Just remember that.”

“I'll try to,” Charles said as he walked away. 

John turned his attention to the food in front of him until he heard someone call out his and Piotr's names, and he swallowed hard before turning to look at Bobby. “Baby, come join us.”

“I'll be there in a moment,” Bobby called out, so John fixed a glare on Piotr. 

“Not a fucking word,” John stressed.

“I won't say a thing,” Piotr responded. “But I think you should tell him the truth.”

“Fuck that,” John said, shaking his head. “I'm not about to lose him over something stupid like that.”

“I think you underestimate how much that boy loves you,” Piotr said, looking up as Bobby approached the table. “I think we should all get down to business.”

“Business?” Bobby asked as he sat down next to John.

“I want to know when the next party is,” Piotr said, grinning. “Kurt and I are in the mood to watch some go-go boys dance in front of us.”

**********

Erik was in his office when there was a knock at the door, and after calling out for the person to come in, a smile crossed his face when he saw who it was. “Jean! Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for you, Erik,” Jean said, sitting down in front of Erik's desk. “You said that this was work call, not a personal one.”

Erik set the papers he was reading down. “I'm sure you heard that Charles is a new pet project.”

Jean nodded. “Yeah, John was saying something to me about that.”

“Well, I have a few issues with him that I need some legal advice about,” Erik said, drumming his fingers on the table. “He doesn't have any idea what his social security number is, for one thing, so I have no idea how I'm supposed to fill out these tax forms. He has no form of identification and no access to his birth certificate so I can't help him get one. I don't have any idea what to do because I can't request a copy of his birth certificate without some form of identification, right?”

“Well, you don't actually need a photo ID to get a copy of your birth certificate,” Jean said. “He'd need two pieces of mail from either a utility, a phone company, or a government agency from within the past six months. There's an application to fill out and fees to pay. It works out to forty-five dollars and then he'd get the copy within five to ten business days. So if you can get him some mail like I specified, a birth certificate could be obtained within a month or two.”

“Okay,” Erik said, scribbling some notes down. “What about his social security number? I can't legally pay him if I can't fill out these tax forms.”

“What kind of tax forms are you having him fill out? Because you don't need a social security number to pay him legally,” Jean said, tilting her head slightly. “What are you not telling me?”

Erik stood up. “Hold on a minute. I need to ask him something before I can answer that.”

Jean nodded and Erik made his way out of the room, quickly jogging up the steps to the loft. He let himself in and found Charles on the sofa, watching news coverage of his mother's funeral. “Charles? Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Charles sniffled, refusing to turn his head towards Erik. “I'm just fine.”

Erik walked over and sat down next to him, gently putting a hand on his knee. “It's okay to mourn her, Charles. She was your mother.”

“She was a motherfucking bitch.”

“She was still your mother.”

Charles took in a shuddering breath and shook his head. “I told you, I'm fine.”

Erik sighed. “Okay. I have a question for you about your inheritance.”

“I told you I'm not ready to contact Trask yet.”

“And that's fine,” Erik stressed. “But I also told you I would work on getting some identification and things like that in order for you, remember?”

Charles nodded so Erik continued. “My lawyer is downstairs and questioning what all of this is about, and I wanted to know if I could tell her what is going on.”

Charles swallowed hard. “Your lawyer?”

“It's just Jean,” Erik said softly, squeezing Charles's knee. “And she won't say a thing to anyone else, I promise. I'm not going to tell her anything about what you were doing either. She'll just think that you got strung out on drugs and lost your way. That's it.”

Charles stared at the screen in front of him, watching as someone he barely recognized walked to the lectern to say something about his mother that was almost entirely false. After a couple of moments, he turned his head towards Erik and saw the genuine sincerity in his eyes, and he wondered yet again what had happened to him to end up in the care of someone so giving of themselves like Erik was. “You can tell her,” he said quietly. “But only her and only what she absolutely needs to know.”

“Then that is what I'll do,” Erik said, smiling at him as he stood up. “Don't torture yourself by watching this, okay? It is alright if you don't.”

“I know,” Charles said. “I just need to.”

“Then that's alright too,” Erik said, bending down to brush a kiss along the top of Charles's head. “I'll see you later, honey.”

Charles didn't say anything as Erik turned towards the door, heading back down to his office. Jean was still inside it once he got there, sipping at a soda that she'd obviously gotten in the meantime. “I am so sorry,” Erik said as he walked around the desk. “I should have asked if you wanted anything.”

“It's fine, Erik,” Jean said, setting the glass down. “So, what's going on with Charles?”

Erik sat down and took a deep breath. “Charles's full name is Charles Xavier.”

He sat there and watched as it took a moment for Jean to get it. “He's Sharon Xavier's son.”

“Yes. He's been estranged from her for a while, ended up here in the city and strung out on drugs. There's more to it than that but he asked me not to get into it.”

Jean nodded. “That's fine. So you're working on things that will help him get his inheritance then.”

“I'm trying to help him as much as I can. I can't get him to stop the drugs and I can't get him to pry himself away from news coverage about her death either. He's barely working in the restaurant at the moment because he's spending every second glued to that television. I'm not sure that he's slept in days. It's just a really bad situation and I don't know what to do to help him out of it.”

Jean studied him. “There might come a point where I need to know the rest of the backstory, you know. It all depends on how this happens. I take it you want my help when it comes to get him his inheritance?”

“Eventually,” Erik said, leaning back in his chair. “Charles isn't ready for that yet.”

“And I take it no one knows about this but you and me?”

“That is correct.”

“Then it will stay that way,” Jean said, reaching for her soda. “So he has no identification, no idea what his social security number is, and somehow has to convince whoever is in charge of settling the estate that he's Sharon Xavier's son.”

“He says he knows the lawyer in charge of it very well and that he doesn't think he'd need to go through much to get him on board with the fact of who he is,” Erik said, running his hands over his face. “But when it comes to providing legal identification for things...”

“He doesn't have any,” Jean finished. “I'd ask why but I'm guessing you wouldn't tell me.”

“No, I wouldn't,” Erik said seriously. “Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

“Then I will help you get him set up with identification without question,” Jean said, glancing at her watch. “Is Scott here yet?”

“He's probably down in the club getting things ready for tonight,” Erik said after a look over at the clock. “He'd be happy to see you, I'm sure.”

Jean smiled. “I'll be happy to see him too, though I won't be happy discussing what I want to tell him.”

“Which is?”

“I'm moving out,” Jean said softly. “I just cannot take any more of Logan's bullshit. He won't admit it but he's got a thing on the side with another woman and I just...I won't stand for that. I won't stay. So I'm going to tell Scott about it because he always lets me complain about Logan and helps me sort out my thoughts. He's a great friend to have.”

Erik just nodded, thinking about how Scott really felt. “He is a really great friend. Great to talk to as well.”

“I'll head down there if that's alright,” Jean said, standing up. “I don't have any reason to go back to the office today.”

“That's fine, Jean. I'll let you down there because I know he probably locked the door from here behind himself.”

“Thanks, Erik.”

They walked out of the office and into the back, Erik letting Jean into the club before turning and heading back into the restaurant. “Hey, Sean?”

“Yeah, boss?” Sean called out, concentrating on the omelets he was making.

“You still planning to stay and have dinner with Charles tonight?”

“Yep,” Sean said, sliding the omelets onto plates and putting them on the waiting Emma's tray. “Why?”

Erik walked over to him and lowered his voice. “It's been a really hard day for him, okay? And he is wallowing in past memories. He might bring it up but he probably won't, so no trying to get him to talk about anything other than light topics tonight, alright?”

Sean nodded. “Got it. Nothing personal. Can I ask like favorite songs and movies and stuff like that? Or is that too personal?”

“I think those questions are fine,” Erik murmured. “But I'm not sure he'll actually have answers for them. He wasn't really exposed to the world for the last several years.”

Sean frowned. “I know it was bad, Erik, but it was really that bad?”

“Yeah, honey, it was really that bad,” Erik said, smiling when Emma put up another order. “Get back to work. I'll see you in about an hour.”

“Sounds good! Try to get what Charles wants out of him before then! I don't want to have to wait twenty minutes for him to figure out what he wants!”

“I'll try,” Erik said as he walked away. “But I make no promises.”


	9. Chapter 9

“So Jubes and I were thinking that we need to either hire another bartender or build another bar to split up the crowd,” Kitty said, jumping up to sit on the bar as Scott looked through the newspaper. “We're just getting overwhelmed, especially on the weekends.”

Scott sighed and set the newspaper down, looking around the club. “And where would you suggest building this other bar?”

“I've got no idea. It's just what we were thinking,” Kitty said, sighing. “Look, Jubes is starting to complain about being so busy and not getting paid enough, and I'm just trying to thinking solutions to keep her happy.”

“I'll get the word out that we're looking for another bartender and in the meantime I'll help you guys out,” Scott said, looking over at her. “And I'll ask Erik about raises. You two deserve them.”

“Thanks,” Kitty said, smiling. “And if you are going to help us out then you're going to have to stay sober. You've been pretty trashed the last few nights.”

Scott sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I had a conversation with someone about something and I can't get it off my mind no matter how much I want to. But going behind the bar might be a good way to keep me sober at this rate.”

“You've got some strange logic, babe, you know that?” Kitty laughed. “And is this about Jean breaking up with Logan? Because that has been major gossip for days now.”

Scott sighed again. “Why does everyone always assume these things are about Jean?”

“Because we know you,” Kitty replied, “and we're not stupid.”

“Well, whatever, but this isn't about Jean.”

“Then what's it about? Because we are all a little concerned.”

Scott turned around and reached for a bottle of whiskey, quickly pouring himself a drink and knocking it back. “It's about Alex.”

Kitty swallowed hard as Scott poured himself another drink. “Oh honey, I'm so sorry. If I had known, I wouldn't have said anything.”

“It's fine,” Scott murmured, downing the glass and pouring himself another. “My parents have decided that he must be dead and I cannot believe that. I refuse to believe that. He's out there somewhere. I just know it.”

Kitty reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “You want to talk about it?”

“No,” Scott said sharply, turning back around and catching a glimpse of Kitty's shoes. “Those look like stripper heels.”

Kitty crossed her legs so her shoe was more visible. “That's because they are. Sebastian dared me to have a go at the pole on Saturday so I figured that I should get some appropriate shoes for it.”

“There's going to be a stripper pole on Saturday?” Scott asked, shaking his head. “The cops better not show up.”

“Don't worry, Erik already had that conversation with John,” Kitty said, glancing down when she heard a beep. “Oh, delivery is here. That's good because we're low on rum.”

“You go deal with that and I'll go talk to Erik about advertising for another bartender,” Scott said, ducking underneath the bar. “And don't fall over in those heels!”

“I won't, I promise!” Kitty called out as Scott jogged up the stairs.

Scott made his way into the restaurant and looked around, heading towards the offices when he didn't see Erik. Erik wasn't in his office either so he headed up to the loft, knocking quickly on the door. “Erik?”

The door opened a few moments later and Erik pushed him back down the stairs. “In my office.”

Scott nodded and they made their way there. Once the door was closed, Scott took one look at Erik and shook his head. “You look like shit.”

“Dealing with Charles is difficult right now,” Erik said, collapsing onto the sofa. “Trying to convince him that he has value is more difficult than I had been anticipating. Of course, I didn't know how long he'd been in that situation when I got him out of it. I am so grateful for the fact that he's letting me help him because I shudder every time I think about what he was doing.”

“Everyone keeps telling me it was bad but I never interact with Charles unless he is in the club so I guess I don't have a real idea about it.”

“It was horrific,” Erik said, running his hands over his face. “But that's not what you want to talk to me about, so what is it?”

“I think you have two bartenders that are ready to quit unless they get some help,” Scott said, sitting down in a chair. “Kitty was asking me about another bartender or building another bar down there to split up the crowd. I wasn't sure what you thought about that.”

“I think that those are good ideas,” Erik said after a few moments. “They are swamped on the weekends especially and it's not much better on weeknights. Your thoughts?”

“I think another bartender and raises will placate them right now but I have no idea where we would put another bar.”

“I'll need to see the club full before I can make a final decision, but if we sacrifice that empty office and redo the storeroom, I'm thinking that corner would work for a smaller bar. It's on the opposite side of the room to where the bar is now so it would split things up nicely.”

“That is a really good idea,” Scott murmured. “I hadn't even thought about that.”

“Well, that's what I'm for,” Erik laughed. “I know you'll hate this but I'll get Logan to come in and give me an estimate.”

“You're right, I will hate that,” Scott muttered. “But I understand wanting to keep things in the circle. You know you can trust him not to fuck you over.”

“Exactly,” Erik said, standing up. “Give the girls raises. Another five dollars an hour. Get them some help. Just spread the word. I'm not looking to have to actually advertise right now. If anyone else finds out about the raises, tell them everyone is getting one, I just haven't announced it yet.”

“Got it, boss,” Scott said as he stood up.

“You want to talk about Alex yet?”

“Nope.”

“You know I'm here for you once you do, right?”

“Yep.”

“Good,” Erik said, heading towards the door. “I'll be in the loft if you need me.”

“Got it.”

**********

Jubilee grinned and pressed a kiss to the side of Kitty's neck. “That girl at the end of the bar has been checking you out all night.”

Kitty glanced in that direction before looking back at Jubilee. “The one at the very end? She's gorgeous.”

“Yeah, her,” Jubilee said, reaching for the shaker.

“She leaned over the bar to get a better look when you bent over to grab that new bottle a few minutes ago,” Charles said, making Kitty look over at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” Charles confirmed, reaching for his drink. “It was pretty fucking obvious.”

Kitty laughed and poured herself a shot of vodka, knocking it back before glancing towards the end of the bar again. “You think I should?”

“Fucking hell yes,” Jubilee said, setting the shaker down and pushing Kitty in her direction. “Her phone number or you have to pay for the train all week. For Theresa too.”

“Fucking bitch,” Kitty said, swatting playfully at her before making her way down the bar and stopping in front of the girl. “Hi there, stranger. Need another drink?”

“Hi,” the woman said, shaking her head drunkenly. “No drink but how about your name?”

“Your name first, girl.” Kitty smiled and grabbed an empty glass off the bar. “I don't give my name to just anyone, sweetheart. You've got to give me a good reason to.”

“Marie,” she said, grinning. “And as for a good reason, does the fact that you're the prettiest thing I've ever seen count?”

“It's a start,” Kitty said, laughing. “Come up with something better by the time my shift's over and you'll have your answer. I'll be back.”

Kitty walked back down to where Charles was trying to reach over the bar for another bottle, snatching it out of his grasp before he could latch on to it. “You need constant supervision, you know that?”

“What I need is a massive hit,” Charles mumbled, shoving his empty glass towards her. “And I can't have one.”

Kitty took the glass and refilled it, sliding it back across the bar. “Why can't you have a hit? Are you finally listening to all of us and realizing you shouldn't do that shit?”

“No,” Charles said sharply. “I need that and I don't expect anyone to understand why. And I can't have one right now because I don't have any left.”

Kitty just shook her head. “So get some more.”

“Don't have any money.”

“I thought Erik was buying it for you. Just ask him.”

“Can't do that.”

Kitty gave him a confused look as Jubilee walked back up to them again. “Phone number?”

“Working on it,” Kitty murmured. “Charles, why can't you ask Erik to get you more drugs?”

Charles sucked in a breath and downed his drink. “Because he just got me some and I don't want him to know that I need more already.”

The girls' eyes widened. “How much of that shit are you doing?” Jubilee asked.

“I might have been doing triple hits,” Charles mumbled. “I needed it.”

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Kitty exclaimed. “Charles, that is not smart.”

“I don't expect you to understand.”

“Good, because I don't,” Kitty said, shaking her head when Charles slid his glass across the bar again. “No, you've had enough.”

“Kitty, come on,” Charles pleaded. “If I can't get high, I definitely need to be drunk.”

“Charles,” Jubilee said as softly as she could, “promise me that you're not going to keep taking way too much and I'll get you some more.”

Charles blinked and stared at her for a moment. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Jubilee said. “But no more triple hits. Just single hits. If I find out that it doesn't last as long as it should, I'll never do this for you again.”

Charles nodded vigorously. “I'll promise anything to get some more drugs at the moment.”

Jubilee and Kitty both sighed but Jubilee nodded. “Then I will get you some more by the end of the night. I'm a little busy at the moment.”

“Thanks, Jubes. You're the best,” Charles said, pushing away from the bar. “I'm going to go find Sean. Sebastian wants me to be front and center again.”

“You should tell him to fuck off and if he doesn't listen the you should knee him in the balls,” Kitty said seriously. 

“It's fine,” Charles said as he walked away. “I'm used to being treated like this!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jubilee asked.

“No idea,” Kitty replied. “He's still not talking about his past. And how the fuck are you going to get him more drugs, hm? You don't even know what kind of drugs it is he uses.”

“I'm going to talk to Erik, of course,” Jubilee said. “He knows, he'll pay for it, and he'll keep a way closer eye on Charles than I'm capable of doing.”

“Smart,” Kitty said, glancing over at the clock. “Now let's get ready because the pre-show rush is about to start.”

**********

Erik looked around the DJ booth and sighed. “She looks too young to be in here.”

“She's twenty-one, don't worry,” Vanessa said, nodding when the younger woman glanced back at them. “I made sure of that already.”

“She looks like she's twelve,” Erik murmured, sighing. “Well, she can spin. No one's bitching about the music.”

Vanessa nodded. “She's good. She pulled out a few tracks that I hadn't heard when I first went to listen to her, and they were brilliant.”

“Alright,” Erik said, glancing around the club. “She gets the job. What's her name?”

“Ellie,” Vanessa said, smiling. “But she goes by DJ Negasonic.”

“Negasonic?” Erik asked, shaking his head. “I'm not even going to ask.”

“Probably a good idea,” Vanessa laughed. “I didn't understand a word of her explanation when I asked.”

Erik rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. “DJ Negasonic?”

“DJ Negasonic,” Vanessa confirmed, smiling and nodding when Ellie glanced back at them again, bringing a large smile to the girl's face. “You going to do it or shall I?”

“I'll do it,” Erik said, shaking his head at some of the scenes on the dance floor. “Looks like it's about time for it too because there are some seriously wasted queens out there tonight.”

Vanessa burst out laughing as Erik walked towards the boards, putting a hand on Ellie's shoulder as he grabbed the microphone. He waited until the song was about to switch and flipped it on, turning down the music's volume for a moment. “It's last call, bitches, so if you want some liquor, get the fuck over to the bar! Sexy Jubilee and Shadowcat are going to shut it down in ten minutes, so get your liquor now! You are listening to the music of DJ Negasonic and you better motherfucking like it because you'll be hearing a lot from her from now on.”

Erik set the microphone down and smiled at Ellie. “Welcome to Genosha, Ellie. I'm sure you're going to fit in around here very well.”

“Thanks,” Ellie said, sliding her headphones back on and fading into the next song.

Erik walked back over to where Vanessa was and smiled at her. “Did you get the email I sent you?”

“Yes. Are you sure you want me to do that?”

Erik sighed. “I want to know why Raven is back in town before she shows up at the restaurant looking for us because I have no doubt that is coming soon. I figured if you and Wade went there on what could be seen as a date night then she wouldn't get too suspicious.”

“Well, Wade's been wanting to go there anyway so I'll make it happen this weekend,” Vanessa said. “I'll call you and let you know what is up while we're on our way home that night.”

“Thank you, Vanessa,” Erik said, smiling at her. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“Hey, I like Hank too, and she destroyed him. He deserves some warning if she's going to come around here again.”

“I know that he'll appreciate this when I tell him how I got this information,” Erik said, glancing over at the clock. “I'll be up in the loft if anyone needs me. Don't spin too far past cut off time.”

“I won't, I promise,” Vanessa said before Erik walked out of the booth.

**********

“I'm really bad at this,” Marie said, playing with the napkin in front of her. “I just know that I'd really love to know your name and then see what happens from there.”

Kitty smiled and grabbed a pen from behind the bar, dropping it down in front of Marie. “Give me your phone number and I'll give you my name.”

Marie looked at her in surprise. “Seriously?”

“You're fucking adorable, you know that?” Kitty grinned at her. “I get your phone number, you get my name, and then we can start discussing whose place we're going back to.”

Marie grinned and picked up the pen, scribbling her number across the napkin before pushing it towards Kitty. “There's the number. So what's your name?”

“Katherine,” she said, tucking the napkin into his pocket. “But everyone calls me Kitty. Well, some of them call me Shadowcat around here, but I honestly have no idea as to why.”

“Kitty,” Marie said softly, smiling. “It's a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” Kitty said, grinning. “My place or yours?”

Marie laughed. “Mine's a block from here.”

“Then I say yours,” Kitty said, glancing back at the clock. “Half an hour until the club closes and then I'll guilt trip Jubilee into finishing everything up on her own.”

Marie nodded and polished off her drink. “Well, then I'll just be here waiting.”

**********

Erik knocked on the door to Charles's room and waited until he heard him call out before entering. “Enjoy yourself tonight?”

“Sebastian shoved his hand down the back of my pants,” Charles mumbled from where he was laying on the floor.

Erik walked over to the bed and sat down its edge, looking down at Charles. “How did you react?”

“I wanted to punch him but that would attract too much attention. So I just pulled his arm away and ran.”

Erik sighed and ran his hands over his face. “I'll talk to him again.”

“It's not going to change anything,” Charles said quietly. “He's not going to stop.”

“He's either going to stop or he's not going to be allowed here,” Erik said firmly. “And I will make that very clear to him and very clear to John. I don't care how many of those queens come here to see him shake his ass in those shows. He keeps assaulting you then he's not going to be here.”

“He's not assaulting me.”

“Fine, harassing you then.”

“It's fine.”

“It's really not.”

Charles fell silent for a few minutes before opening his eyes and looking up at Erik. “You really mean that, don't you?”

“No one should be harassed, Charles. And I don't care that Sebastian is just doing this so that he can fuck you. It's not appropriate.”

Charles stared at him before deciding to ask the question he'd been wondering about ever since that night he first met Erik. “Erik, when you found me that night in the rain, that first night, did you really want to fuck a prostitute and I just happened to be there?”

“I don't fuck prostitutes, Charles,” Erik said seriously. “I saw a man who was clearly in need of some help and I was going to say whatever I had to in order to get him that help. It was quite obvious that you were one and so I went with that. But I had spotted that wound on your side and knew that you needed my help so I made you think I was interested. I was never going to fuck you that night.”

Charles felt himself relax against the floor. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being a good person. It had been a really long time since I'd come across a good person.”

Erik smiled down at him. “Then I'm really glad I found you that night. And I hope you know that you're around a whole lot of good people now.”

“I do,” Charles murmured. “And I will never be able to repay you for all of this.”

“You don't have to.”

“I feel like I do.”

“Charles, I'm serious. You don't owe me anything.”

Charles didn't say anything else so Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out the plastic bag that contained Charles's drugs. “I talked to Jubilee.”

“Bitch.”

“She's just worried about you,” Erik said, shaking his head. “We all are. But I know that trying to get you off these drugs at the moment is futile, so here are some more.”

Charles looked up and saw the bag in Erik's hands, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me for this,” Erik said, putting the bag on the bed and standing up. “I feel like an enabler and I hate that.”

“You want me to stop. That means you aren't an enabler.”

“Regardless, I'm going to feel that way until I get you into rehab,” Erik said, glancing over at the clock. “You're not going to be in any shape to work in the morning.”

“I know.”

“That is becoming a habit.”

“I know that too.”

“So starting tomorrow, you are working in the afternoons,” Erik said, walking towards the door. “So be prepared to work after lunch.”

“Okay.”

Erik paused at the door and turned back to Charles. “Lights on or off?”

“On,” Charles said, sitting up and reaching for the bag on the bed.

Erik almost had the door closed when he heard Charles call out his name. “What, Charles?”

“I feel a lot better knowing you don't fuck prostitutes.”

“You should have asked me about it sooner then.”

“Maybe,” Charles said, giving him a soft smile. “Goodnight, Erik.”

“Goodnight, Charles.”


	10. Chapter 10

“So, is Charles straight or something?”

John glanced up from his paperwork and sighed at the look on Sebastian's face. “No, he is not. Why?”

“I'm just trying to figure out why I haven't tapped that ass yet, that's all.”

John set the paperwork down. “Sebastian, listen to me when I tell you to stop this pursuit of Charles. It just makes him uncomfortable.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Which is why I asked if he's straight. That's the only reason I can come up with for why he won't get with the program.”

“Fucking hell, Sebastian. Bobby is going to kill me if you hurt this kid. And then Erik will kill whatever's left.”

“I don't fucking care about your bitch wife and what he thinks. And Erik can fucking deal with it.”

“Watch what the fuck you say to me about Bobby or you'll be looking for another job,” John said firmly. “And Erik is about to ban you from Genosha, so you better fucking knock this off.”

Sebastian started playing with the beads around his beck. “John, honestly, this isn't that big of a deal.”

“And I'm trying to tell you that it is.”

“Whatever, “ Sebastian huffed. “I am so incredibly right about all of this and once I get my hands on Charles, you all will see that.”

“Okay, let's say that Charles does sleep with you. What do you do if he wants more than just being a piece of your trade?”

Sebastian slumped down in the chair and glared across the table at John. “I don't feel the need to dignify that with a response.”

“Fuck, Sebastian,” John said, putting his head in his hands. “You need to think about this stuff.”

“I do not.”

“Alright, fine,” John said, shaking his head. “What happens if you get him alone in a room with a bed and he decides he doesn't want it?”

“Who the fuck wouldn't want it?” Sebastian asked, grabbing the newspaper off the table. “Sex is fucking brilliant.”

“Thank you for completely missing my point,” John said, searching through the stack of papers in front of him. “Fine, let's look at the flip side then. What happens if you fuck him and he does decide he wants more, and you find yourself in a relationship?”

“Then I'm in a motherfucking relationship,” Sebastian said, sitting up and reaching for his coffee. “I don't understand why everyone thinks I'm so fucking incapable of doing that. All it means is fucking the same guy every night instead of different ones.”

John groaned. “And that statement is exactly why everyone thinks you aren't capable of being in a relationship. Relationships are about so much more than just sex, Sebastian.”

“Are we going to talk about the show or was that just an excuse to get me to come here so you could fucking attack me about Charles?”

“I'm not attacking you. I'm trying to protect you from Erik and keep Charles from getting hurt. I am not fucking kidding when I say this. If you fuck up Charles any more than he already is, Erik will kill you for it. He has gotten very attached to him and he doesn't want him to be hurt.”

“Order's here, boys,” came Emma's voice, and she set a couple of plates on the table a moment later. “And Seb, listen to John. I wouldn't want to go a day without your splash of color around here. It would be a shame if Erik banned you.”

“He's not going to ban me if I fuck Charles.”

“Yeah, honey, he is,” Emma said seriously. “Let me know if you want a refill on your coffee!”

John just nodded when Sebastian turned to him. “I've already stated making contingency plans for when you get yourself banned from here.”

“Whatever,” Sebastian scoffed. “Now, let's get down to business, assuming there actually is any.”

John sighed but reached out, latching onto a piece of paper with his fingers and pulling it out of the stack. “Fine. Doug emailed the new poster design last night and one of the images in it gave me this idea for you and Azazel.”

**********

Erik walked into the apartment, frowning when he heard the shower running. “Charles, you just took a shower an hour ago!”

“It's not him,” came the response, prompting Erik to drop his stuff on the table and walk towards the bathroom. He found Scott fully clothed and sitting on the floor of the shower, the water pouring down onto him. 

“Oh, honey,” Erik said softly, reaching out to turn the water off. “What are you doing?”

Scott pulled his knees closer to his chest, sighing. “I don't know.”

Erik moved into the shower and sat down next to him, pulling Scott close. “I'm worried about you.”

“Things were supposed to get better. We were going to find Alex and bring him home and that would make it all go away.” Scott put his head on Erik's shoulder. “And that hasn't happened.”

“I don't know what to do,” Erik said. “I just don't know what the fuck to do. I can't just magically find him for you.”

Scott turned his head and buried his face in Erik's neck. “I know. I do. But he's gone, Erik. I have to accept that.”

“That is fucking bullshit,” Erik said firmly. “Absolute motherfucking bullshit.”

Scott shook his head. “It's the truth.”

“Until there is a body, there is no truth to that,” Erik murmured gently. “And the police have yet to find a body. I need you to stay positive.”

“I can't. Not like this. He deserves better than me like this.”

“Then we'll work on that,” Erik said, caressing Scott's shoulder. “We'll make you better.”

“I'm not sure we can.”

“Don't say that.”

“My mother suggested that I go back to Alaska for a while, clear my head and shit like that, but I don't want to go back there.”

“But you want to go somewhere?”

“Bobby thinks I should go to rehab,” Scott said, pulling away from Erik's embrace. “He brought all these motherfucking brochures and shit over to my place the other day.”

“And you agreed with him?”

Scott laughed. “I threw them out the window and told him to get the fuck out.”

“But you agree with him now? I mean, you wouldn't be bringing it up unless you did,” Erik said as he leaned back against the shower wall.

“I was filling out order forms this morning because Kitty picked up some trade and Jubes was being such a whiny bitch I sent her home, and for the first time, I realized how much I fucking drink in a week,” Scott said, curling up in the corner of the shower. “I know that it's like the thing around here to call me an alcoholic and laugh but...I didn't realize I was that bad.”

“So, rehab then?”

“I don't know what else to do,” Scott mumbled, wrapping his arms around his waist. “There's a few places around here. Maybe we can find one I can afford.”

Erik slid across the floor and settled himself next to Scott. “If you think I'm going to let you pay for it, you're sorely mistaken. And we'll find the right one.”

“Bobby can probably help out with the club.”

“I'm not worried about the motherfucking club right now,” Erik said firmly. “I couldn't give a fuck about the club right now.”

Scott swallowed hard. “I want to believe he's still out there, Erik. I want to believe it so badly.”

“He is, honey,” Erik murmured. “And we're going to find him.”

**********

Charles tilted his head to the side as Erik walked down the stairs. “Erik, you know you're all wet, right? And not in a t-shirt contest down in the club kind of way.”

Erik paused at the end of the stairs and blinked. “We have wet t-shirt contests down in the club?”

“Those who wear fake tits aren't allowed to participate. Sean was teaching me about it,” Charles said, tilting his head to the other side. “Do you want me to find you a towel or something?”

“No, but you can find Hank and direct him to my office,” Erik said, looking down at his pants. “And Bobby too, if he's here.”

“I can do that,” Charles said. “Maybe you should put on some dry clothes?”

“Yes,” Erik said, glancing back up the stairs. “I'm going to do that. My office, ten minutes. And you're not allowed upstairs for a while, okay? There's something going on that you don't need to be a part of yet.”

“Okay,” Charles said timidly, frowning when Erik walked back up the stairs without saying another word.

He turned and walked into the back, poking his head into Hank's office when he reached it. “Hey, Hank, Erik wants you in his office.”

“I'm a little busy at the moment,” Hank said, his eyes not leaving his computer screen. “Can I catch him later?”

“No, I don't think so,” Charles said, walking into the office. “He looks like he's on something, his clothes were half wet when he came down the stairs a few moments ago, he's banned me from going up there for a while, and he wants you and Bobby in his office in ten minutes.”

Hank sighed and reached for his phone. “Bobby isn't here but I'll call him and get him to come in.”

“Do you think I've done something wrong?” Charles asked quietly.

“What?” Hank exclaimed, looking up at him. “No, Charles, you haven't been doing anything wrong. I'm almost positive that this has nothing to do with you.”

“I just want the chance to apologize if I've done something wrong, preferably before I end up back out on the streets.”

Hank stood up and looked at Charles, taking in the absolute terror in his eyes. “I think you need a hug, Charles.”

Charles nodded and Hank pulled him into an embrace. “I promise you, I'll do anything anyone wants to make you all not kick me out,” Charles murmured. “Anything. People used to pay good money for some of the stuff I know how to do.”

Hank froze. “Pay good money for stuff you can do?”

Charles swallowed hard as he realized what he'd said, but his panic kept his talking. “I'll get on my knees right now. All you have to do is ask. Or maybe bending me over your desk would be more your thing. I don't really know. I never know.”

Hank's heart broke as he realized what Charles meant. “Oh, Charles, no. I'd never ask you to do that. Ever. No one should have ever asked you to do that.”

“Had to survive somehow,” Charles mumbled into Hank's shoulder. “Please don't tell anybody. Only Erik knows.”

“I won't say a word, I promise. And if there is an issue with you, I'll make sure it's resolved without things having to resort to that, okay?”

“Thank you, Hank,” Charles said as he pulled back. “I'm going to get back to work now.”

“If you run into Erik, tell him I'm calling Bobby and then I'll be in there.”

Charles nodded and walked out of the office. He waited until the door was closed before reaching into his pocket and fishing one of the little pills out. He swallowed it down quickly. He had to just pretend that he hadn't told Hank. He had to.

At least until he could lie on his floor, take another couple of pills, and forget about the world completely for a while. Sucking in a deep breath, Charles walked away from the office and tried to plaster a smile on his face as he headed back out into the restaurant.

He could do this. 

He had no choice but to.


	11. Chapter 11

Bobby nearly dropped the plate he was holding when the door opened and Raven walked in. “Fuck.”

Charles glanced in the door's direction and swallowed hard. “That's Raven, isn't it?”

“Yes, it is,” Bobby muttered as she approached the counter. “Raven.”

“Hey, Bobby and,” she paused and looked at Charles, “guy who I don't know. Anyway, I'm here to talk to Erik so I'm just going to go on up.”

“Does he know you're coming?”

“No.”

“Then I'm not letting you go up there,” Bobby said, shaking his head.

“For fuck's sake, Bobby, all I want to motherfucking do is say hello,” Raven said, rolling her eyes. “Knock off this grade school bullshit.”

“It is quarter after nine and you know as well as I do that Erik is asleep right now,” Bobby said, walking over to the cash register when he saw one of the customers approach it. “If you want to talk to him, come to the club tonight.”

Raven groaned and sat down on the nearest stool. “I should have fucking known this was going to happen.”

“You're the bitch that just left,” Sean said, turning away from the grill to look at Raven. “What the fuck did you expect?”

“I thought that perhaps I had some friends around here,” Raven sighed.

“You do, honey,” Sean said, putting the food onto a plate and setting it on Charles's tray. “Table twelve, love. And Raven, you have lots of friends around here, okay? But Erik is the one who signs my paycheck and I learned a very long time ago to not interrupt him while he is sleeping until the building is on fire.”

Raven ran her hands through her hair. “But this is the only time I can come by. I've got other things to do at night.”

“Look, after the way you motherfucking left, you don't get to walk in here and demand that Erik meet your fucking schedule, okay?” Sean exclaimed, slamming his spatula against the prep table and glaring at Raven. “Bobby is right. If you want to talk to him, you can fucking come back at a time when Erik is available. Otherwise, honey, don't fucking bother coming around.”

“Fine,” Raven said bitterly, standing up. “Will you at least tell him I came by?”

“If that will get you to leave, then yes.”

“You two are fucking unbelievable,” Raven muttered, stalking out of the restaurant.

Bobby handed the customer her change and shook his head. “She's the one who is fucking unbelievable.”

“Tell me about it,” Sean said, grabbing a cup and pouring himself some coffee. “I know we lied to her about Erik being asleep, but at least this thing with Scott this morning means that Hank wasn't here.”

Bobby sucked in a sharp breath at the thought of that encounter. “It's only a matter of time until they're face to face. He knows she's back in town.”

“He does?”

“Vanessa found out and told Erik, so Erik told him. He deserves to know.”

Charles walked back to the counter and set the tray down, sighing heavily. “I completely fucked that up. I'm sorry.”

“How could you have fucked that up?” Sean asked. “You were just delivering food to the table.”

“I forgot to ask if there was anything else they needed,” Charles said meekly. “I'm so, so sorry.”

Sean set his coffee down and walked over to Charles, holding open his arms. “Come here.”

Charles stepped into Sean's embrace and put his head on Sean's shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

“Charles, it's fine,” Bobby said. “Just go back by there in a few minutes and ask how everything is. If they need something, they will tell you.”

“But I should know all of this stuff by now. I shouldn't be forgetting any of it,” Charles said. “It's been almost three months.”

“Hey, listen to me, okay?” Sean said softly. “You are doing great. No one thinks anything but that. And you're doing much better than Emma did in her first three months. So don't worry about it.”

“Really?” Charles asked quietly as he pulled back.

“Oh, yes,” Bobby said, smiling at him. “You haven't nearly burned down the place.”

“What?”

“I think Charles needs some stories, Sean. So that's what we're going to do today while Hank and Erik are dealing with Scott. Emma can just fucking deal with it.”

**********

Erik opened the door to Scott's office and flipped on the light, taking a deep breath before walking into the room. He closed the door behind him and walked towards the desk, pulling back Scott's chair before carefully sitting down. He sat there for a moment before he reached out and grabbed the note Scott had left on the desk, unfolding it and spreading it across the desk's surface. His eyes scanned through the hastily written words, reading through them once and then again as their meaning slowly began to sink in.

He looked up when the door opened, leaning back in the chair as Hank closed it behind him. Hank sat down in front of the desk and Erik pushed the note towards him, closing his eyes as Hank read it.

“Fuck,” Hank mumbled, glancing up at Erik. “Did you have any idea he had all this in here?”

“No,” Erik said softly. “I didn't even know he was on anything. I suppose I should have figured it out when he picked the drug and alcohol place over the one that was specifically for alcohol abuse.”

“He hid it well,” Hank said, setting the note down on the desk. “That should probably surprise me more than it does.”

Erik sighed heavily and leaned forward, picking up the note again. “We should go through the whole office. I know he listed off a bunch of places where he has it stashed but I want to make sure he's not holding back so that there will still be some when he gets back.”

“I've been thinking about that,” Hank said. “When he gets back, I mean. I'm not sure it's a good idea for a recovering alcoholic, and well, addict too, I suppose, to be working in a nightclub.”

“It's a motherfucking horrible idea,” Erik said, sighing again. “I don't want to make any decisions until he comes back though. I don't want to make him feel like I'm forcing him out of the club.”

“But you're not going to let him keep working down here, are you?”

“I'll fire him before I'd let that happen,” Erik said, pushing back the chair and staring at the drawers of the desk. “What are we going to do with what we find?”

Hank thought for a moment before standing up. “There's some really thick black trash bags up in the storeroom. We can put it all in there and throw it out.”

“We're not just tossing a bag full of drugs into the dumpster, Hank. If someone finds it, it's like asking the cops to come search the place and I really don't want that happening.”

“True,” Hank sighed. “Well, I'll at least get a few bags from the storeroom. That will give us a way to get it out of the building without anyone seeing it, if nothing else. We'll figure out what to do with it once we see how much there is.”

Erik nodded as Hank left the room, reaching towards one of the drawers and pulling it open. He rummaged through its contents before deciding that was a waste of time, pulling the drawer free from the desk and pouring its contents out on the floor. Setting the drawer to the side, he searched through the pens and paper clips, taking a deep breath when he spotted a small vial. He stared at it for a moment before picking it up, tilting it side to side and watching the white powder inside move back and forth.

He didn't move when the door opened, barely blinked when Hank dropped to his knees next to the chair, but by the time that Hank had taken the vial from his hands and pulled him into his arms, Erik found that he couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

“I failed him.”

“No, you didn't,” Hank said softly. “You did the best you could.”

“I promised him we'd find Alex and then when we didn't, he turned to this.”

“And that's on him, not on you.”

Erik sniffled and tried to pull himself together. “We've got to find Alex. It's the only way.”

“The only way what?”

“The only way that I can fix this.”

“Erik,” Hank said seriously, “this is not your fault. This is Scott's fault. He knows how you feel about this shit.”

“I'll try to tell myself that,” Erik said, reaching up to wipe away the tears. “It's bad enough I'm enabling Charles at the moment. Now I know that I helped drive Scott to this.”

“You didn't drive Scott to anything,” Hank said firmly. “If this is anyone but Scott's fault, that falls on Alex. Alex is the reason he did all of this, and if we ever do find Alex, I'm going to make damn sure he knows what an impact this had on his brother.”

“Something tells me Alex might be as fucked up as Charles is when he find him,” Erik said, taking a deep breath. “If Alex is still alive, and I'm still convinced that he is, it wouldn't surprise me if he's stuck in a situation like Charles was.”

“Charles inadvertantly told me that he was a prostitute,” Hank said quietly. “I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone, and I'm not going to treat him any differently because of it, I promise. I just finally understand what you meant when you said that it had been that bad.”

“He was under the control of a pimp,” Erik said softly. “From what I've gotten out of Charles, this pimp controlled every aspect of Charles's life until I entered it. If Alex is mixed up with someone like that guy...”

“It would explain why no one has heard from him in five years,” Hank finished. “I don't know of any way that we could find him unless we started cruising areas where prostitutes work, and I really don't want to do that.”

“No, we're not doing that,” Erik said, shaking his head. “But we're going to find him.”

Hank took a look at the steely determination in Erik's eyes and nodded. “Then we'll find him. But right now how about we just find some drugs?”

Erik turned his eyes back to the mess on the ground. “Yeah, let's get this over with.”

**********

Erik sat on the sofa in the living room, taking comfort in the darkness that surrounded him. The music from the club was thumping below him, the song playing at that moment with a heavy enough bass line to make the glass on the table rattle slightly. The trash bag that they had taken from Scott's office sat on the table behind the glass, so visible that Erik would have sworn that there was a spotlight on it and not just the reflection of the moon from the window. He still wasn't sure what to do with the bag's contents despite telling Hank that he'd discovered a place to get rid of it.

He took a deep breath and reached for the bag, turning it upside down and dumping the contents onto the table. Sighing, he turned the lamp on and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the newfound brightness before looking down at all the little bottles and bags before him. “How the fuck did I never notice all of this?” he murmured to himself, grabbing one of the bottles and opening it up. He pushed everything on the table back a few inches and poured the contents of the vial out, using the lid to straighten the white powder into a fairly neat row. He grabbed his glass and sat back, sipping at the whiskey as he stared at the line.

“You should try it.”

Erik turned to see Charles standing there and he waved him over. “Not going to lie, it's tempting.”

“Cocaine makes you feel really good,” Charles said as he sat down next to him. “I've taken enough to tell you that as a fact.”

“Like I said, it's tempting,” Erik said, going back to staring at the line. “Just to try it, see what it makes me feel like, maybe understand why it was Scott was taking it.”

“Which is why you should,” Charles murmured, reaching out to search through what was on the table. “Damn, he was into some serious shit.”

“That's exactly what it is. Shit,” Erik said, leaning forward and using his hand to slide the powder off the table and into his glass.

Erik stood up and walked into the kitchen, pouring the drink down the sink. He stared at the ice melting in the drain for a few moments before walking back into the living room and grabbing as much of the drugs as he could. He carried them back into the kitchen while calling out to Charles. “Bring the rest of that in here!”

Erik set the containers down on the counter and plucked one from the stack, opening it up and pouring its contents into the sink. Charles came into the room after a few moments, setting the rest down and watching Erik. “You really don't have to do that. I could have just used that. I can just use all of this.”

“No,” Erik said firmly. “It's bad enough that I'm enabling you. I'm not about to make things worse. Now help me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are going to help me get rid of this shit. Start opening bags up.”

“Erik.”

“If you don't want me to do this same thing with the drugs I got for you, I suggest you start opening bags up.”

Charles stood there for a moment before reaching for the nearest bag and opening it, handing it to Erik. They worked in tandem until everything had been emptied into the sink, and then Erik glanced around the kitchen. Spotting the bottle of whiskey, he reached over and grabbed it before pouring its liquid into the sink as well. When he realized that wasn't going to be enough to wash the drugs away, he turned on the faucet, staring at the water swirling as the sink was cleaned.

Charles eventually reached out and turned the water off, putting a hand on Erik's arm. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Meaning?” Erik asked.

“Meaning I'm wondering if there's any way I can help. I know Scott being gone for a while complicates things a lot.”

Erik tuned and stared at Charles for a minute before answering. “Maybe. I need to think about what just popped in my head some more.”

“Okay,” Charles said. “Just let me know what I can do. Hopefully it will be more helpful that my skills as a waiter.”

Erik let out a small chuckle. “I will.”

“I'm going to go take a hit and get some sleep,” Charles said. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Charles,” Erik murmured as Charles walked out of the room.

He stood there for a few moments before grabbing his phone off the table and heading into his room. He stripped his clothes off and settled into bed, turning late night infomercials on while he processed the thought he'd had in the kitchen. After a while, he reached for his phone and typed out a message to Hank. 

_Find a new waiter. Moving Charles to inventory, Bobby to the club, and I'm going to make Scott the manager of the entire place. It'll take some of the load off my shoulders, get Scott out of the club, and hopefully put Charles in a position where he's not constantly thinking he's making a mistake._

Erik stared at the message for a moment before sending it, tossing the phone onto the bedside table. He ran his hands over his face and then turned off the television, relaxing against the mattress. He wanted nothing more than for sleep to claim him so that he could stop thinking about how badly he'd failed Scott.


	12. Chapter 12

Charles looked up when the restaurant door opened and he immediately froze. “Fuck.”

Bobby followed his gaze to see a man standing there and he became confused. “Charles, it's just a customer.”

“No, it's not.”

“Then who is he?”

“Someone who is going to get me killed,” Charles murmured as Darwin locked eyes with him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Killed?” Bobby asked, alarmed. “Charles, what are you talking about?”

Charles ignored him, taking a deep breath before walking around the counter. He pointed towards a booth and Darwin followed him there, and then they were sitting across from each other and Charles didn't know what to say.

“Cain wants you dead,” Darwin eventually said. “He put a huge bounty on your head.”

Charles swallowed hard. “I'm sure he did. So, you going to collect?”

“Nah,” Darwin replied, leaning back in the bench. “Besides, there's probably a huge bounty on me and Alex too. We stole a fuck ton of money from him and ran.”

Charles's eyes widened. “You two got out?”

“When Cain couldn't find you, it made me realize it was actually possible,” Darwin said. “Alex was more than up for it so a month ago we ran. Got as far away from his territory as we could until we felt safe. Alex said this was the right area to stay in. He has a brother who lived around here. Wants to find him but he hasn't found the place that he was working at yet. He's hoping that he still works there.”

“Well, I hope he does for Alex's sake,” Charles said, running his hands over his face. “What brings you in here? I'll get you a menu if you want and then come back to get your order.”

“You work here?”

“Yes. It's nice.”

“Well, I didn't come in here looking for something to eat. I came in here about that help wanted sign in the window.”

“You need a job.”

Darwin nodded. “Badly. The hostel is expensive and we aren't going to be able to stay there long term.”

“I know what you mean,” Charles said. “I totally ran out of money after spending so many nights in a hostel.”

“So, you got an apartment then?”

“No,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I'm staying with the guy who owns this place. I'm his latest pet project.”

“Pet project?” Darwin asked, suspicious.

“It's the term around here for someone he helps out,” Charles explained. “It's really a good thing.”

Darwin laughed. “Alex and I could really go for being someone's pet project right now.”

“Well, get Alex and bring him in here, and I'll introduce you to Erik.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Charles said. “I make no guarantees about what will happen but I'm more than happy to introduce you. He really does like to help people.”

“I'll talk to Alex about it,” Darwin said. “He really doesn't like to actually go in places.”

“I know how that feels. I'm scared to leave this place.”

“And you should be,” Darwin said seriously. “Cain put two hundred on your head.”

Charles's eyes widened. “Two hundred thousand? He wants me dead that much?”

“You were his moneymaker,” Darwin pointed out, looking around. “So, who do I talk to about a job?”

“You really want to work here?”

“I want to work at wherever someone will take me,” Darwin clarified. “I'm starting here.”

“Then stay right here. I'll go get Hank.”

“Thanks, Charles.”

Charles stood and headed into the back, thankful that Bobby was dealing with a customer so he couldn't try to get him to talk about what he had said. He knocked on the frame of Hank's open office door, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Hey Hank, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, Charles,” Hank said, standing up. “I need to talk to you about how you're not going to be a waiter anymore anyway. But that can wait. What's up?”

“What?” Charles asked, surprised, before shaking his head. “Later. Right. Look, I have a former colleague, I guess you could call him, out in the restaurant and he's looking for a job. I was wondering if you would go talk to him for me.”

Hank stopped and looked at Charles for a moment. “He was in the same situation that you were in?”

“Exactly,” Charles said. “And he got out and he needs a job. I just want you to talk to him, please. I told him you would. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

“There will be no need for that,” Hank said, smiling at him. “I'll talk to him. Just point me in his direction.”

Charles breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Nothing to thank me about. Besides, we need a new waiter and I will gladly interview someone for that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Hank said as they headed towards the restaurant. “Erik has a different idea of what you should be doing and therefore I need someone to take your place as a waiter.”

“Is he firing me?” Charles asked, frightened. “Is he kicking me out?”

“No, no,” Hank soothed. “He just wants you to do something else. That's all.”

Charles took a deep breath as they walked into the restaurant. “Okay. Good. Um, Darwin is over there.”

“Thank you, Charles. I'll come talk to you some more after the interview, alright?”

Charles nodded and Hank walked away, and he was alone for about two seconds before Sean approached him. “Charles, Bobby said something about you being killed and now I'm terrified.”

“You're not the only one,” Charles murmured, turning to Sean. “Give me a hug, please?”

Sean wrapped his arms around Charles and Charles rested his head on Sean's shoulder. “Charles, talking about yourself like someone is going to come in here and gun you down is not something that you should do.”

“But it's a possibility,” Charles said softly. “And I really don't like the fact that my presence here puts everyone at risk, and, despite what Erik tells me, he can't guarantee that it won't happen, but it could. Especially now that I just learned how much the bounty on me is.”

“Bounty?”

“The, um, the guy I worked for was not a nice person,” Charles said slowly, trying to phrase things in a way that Sean wouldn't be able to work it out. “And he doesn't like it when people run on him. I ran on him, and he wants me dead so badly that there is now a two hundred thousand dollar bounty on my head.”

Sean's arms tightened around him. “Oh, Charles, what on earth were you mixed up in?”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Charles murmured.

“Then we won't,” Sean said simply. “I'm just glad you got out.”

“Darwin did too.”

“Darwin?”

“The man over there with Hank. He's an old friend.”

“Sean, there are orders up. Get back to work.”

They turned to see Bobby standing there and Sean let go of Charles, shaking his head as he walked back to the grill. “Such a taskmaster.”

“Someone has to be!” Bobby called out before turning to Charles. “Charles, is everything okay? Because I am very worried now.”

“You should be,” Charles said, turning when the restaurant door opened again. “Excuse me, I have to get back to work now.”

By the time Charles had finished taking the new customer's drink order, Hank was shaking Darwin's hand and walking away from the booth. Charles delivered the drink and then went and sat down across from Darwin again, smiling when he saw the relief on his face. “I take it the interview went well.”

“He was very understanding about my situation,” Darwin said, unable to keep the smile off his face. “I start tomorrow morning at six.”

“Well, congratulations, you get the White Queen tomorrow morning and she is a bitch that early.”

“The White Queen?”

“Emma,” Charles laughed. “She's a waitress here, she always dresses in white, and she'll have a tiara perched on her head. So we call her the White Queen. She's fabulous, really.”

Darwin chuckled. “I'm guessing there are some interesting personalities here.”

“Oh yeah, especially with some of the customers. But you'll get used to it quickly. There's no one here that isn't great.” Charles took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Just so you are aware, no one but Erik and Hank knows what I used to do and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“Hank mentioned that I wouldn't have to tell anyone and suggested that I didn't because of you. And that's great, really. I don't want to go in somewhere and immediately have to deal with all of that.”

“Well, you won't if you keep your mouth shut. Just say that you don't want to talk about it and they'll leave you alone. You won't have to answer anything you don't want to.”

“That's great to know.” Darwin smiled and checked the time. “I've got to go find Alex. He's wandering the streets somewhere near here. I'll try to convince him to come eat here with me tonight, but it's not likely.”

“That's okay,” Charles said as they stood. “I'll make sure you meet Erik tomorrow, alright?”

“Sounds great, Charles,” Darwin said. “I'm really glad I ran into you here. I'm glad to know that you're okay. Alex and I always did like you.”

Charles smiled. “I always liked you guys too. I'll talk to you later.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

**********

Erik smiled at the doorman one last time as the elevator doors closed, the smile slipping off his face as soon as he was sure he could no longer be seen. He pulled the keys from his pocket as the elevator went up, looking through the keys as the doors opened and he walked down the hallway. He found the right key before he'd reached the door, sliding it into the lock and slowly opening it. He flipped the light on and closed the door behind him, glancing around at the surroundings he'd been in thousands of times before. 

Scott's apartment was small but usually tidy, so the dirty dishes in the sink and almost empty glass of water on the counter surprised him. Looking around, he noticed a layer of dust covering the table and the bookshelves, and before he realized it, Erik was digging through Scott's cabinets and looking for something to clean with.

An hour later, the apartment was cleaner than it probably had been in some time. Erik wasn't exactly the best at keeping up with housework, but something about cleaning the apartment had made him feel a little better than he had when he'd first walked in. He sat down at the table and looked around the room, wondering why he thought sitting in Scott's empty apartment would make him feel better about the fact that he'd failed him. It clearly wasn't going to work.

Erik jumped when there was a knock on the door, standing up and flinging it open to reveal a teenage girl dressed like a delivery man standing there.

“Hey, is Scott around?”

“No,” Erik said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Who are you?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Just call me Addie, man. So, Scott didn't tell you I'd be around?”

Erik stared at the girl for a moment before he noticed the slight twitching of her hands, realization of who Addie was dawning on him. “Well, he didn't say specifically who it would be,” he said quietly. “Just that someone was bringing the stuff.”

Addie nodded and reached into her pocket, pulling out a package that was wrapped in newspaper. “His usual.”

“How much is it?” Erik asked, glancing back into the apartment. “He didn't tell me.”

Addie rolled her eyes. “Stop acting so weird, dude. If I hadn't seen you in the pictures, I'd think you were an undercover cop or something.”

Erik quickly shook his head. “No, no. I'm not. I just...I don't do this part very often.”

Addie nodded and cracked a smile. “It's alright. You're still nicer than most of the junkies I meet. Look, it's three for the packet and another hundred for me.”

“Another hundred for you?” Erik asked, confused.

Addie laughed. “I never would have guessed Scott as the type to send in his protegés without details, but whatever. Three hundred buys you the packet and another hundred buys you me for the night.”

Erik took a deep breath to calm himself before reaching into his pocket and flipping through his wallet, sighing inwardly in relief when he realized he had enough money to get the girl to go away. “Well, Addie, I'm sure that your personal services are well worth the money, but I'm not in the mood tonight.”

“Your loss, man,” Addie said, handing over the package as soon as Erik handed over the cash. “Should I mark you guys down for double next time?”

“I'm not sure he'll be here next time. There's a place across town that he's almost got a lease on and so...” Erik shook his head and made a mental note to start looking at new apartments for Scott because there was no way in hell he was going to let him live here anymore, not when drug dealers knew where he was.

Addie grinned. “Moving on up? That's cool! Just tell Scott to contact us through the usual and we'll get the deliveries switched to the new address. Until then, I'll mark you down as a temporary hold.”

“Thanks,” Erik said, eyes widening as he closed the door and stared down at the package in his hands. 

He took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen, setting the package on the counter and unwrapping the layers of newspaper from it. He stared at the small plastic bags of powder for a moment before picking up one, pulling it open, and pouring it into the sink. He continued until all the bags were empty and then he started searching through the cabinets, pulling out every bottle of alcohol he could find. Their contents joined the drugs in the sink and when he was sure everything was gone, he turned on the faucet to finishing rinsing it all away. 

He leaned back against the refrigerator as the water ran, sliding down to the floor and running his hands over his face. It was only a matter of seconds before he was blinking back tears, and then he gave into them, unable to hold them back any longer.

He'd failed Scott. He'd failed Alex too. And he had no idea how to deal with it.

**********

Sebastian walked into the club and found Charles leaning up against the bar, sipping at a glass of something that looked like whiskey, so he sauntered over to join him. “Hello, darling.”

Charles looked over and saw Sebastian, taking a deep breath before turning back to his drink. “Sebastian. How are you?”

“Better now that I've seen you, gorgeous,” Sebastian said, grinning at him. “How do I get one of those drinks?”

“I just walked around the bar and poured myself one,” Charles admitted. “You want one? I'll get you one.”

“I would love a glass, love.”

Charles ducked underneath the bar and searched for the glasses. “Please don't call me that.”

“What?”

“Love. I don't want you to call me that.”

“It's just a term of endearment,” Sebastian said flippantly. “I give everyone terms of endearment. It's no big deal.”

“Maybe not to you, but it is to me, and I'd like it if you wouldn't call me that,” Charles said, finding the glasses and reaching for one. 

Sebastian stared at him for a moment. “This has something to do with the lousy motherfucker who broke your heart, doesn't it?”

Charles took a moment to remind himself that Sebastian thought he'd just come out of a big relationship and then nodded. “It has something to do with that, yes. So please don't call me it.”

“Then I won't, darling. I'm sorry. Can I still call you darling? I need to call you something.”

“Charles,” he mumbled. “Why can't you just call me Charles?”

“I do call you Charles. I just also call other people by terms of endearment. So tell me what I'm allowed to call you and I will.”

Charles took a deep breath and poured some whiskey into the glass. “I suppose darling is fine. But nothing else.”

“Then darling it will be,” Sebastian said as Charles slid the glass across the bar. “Come join me over here.”

Charles ducked back out of the bar and took up his spot again, taking a long sip of his drink. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What is it about me that makes you act like this?”

Sebastian laughed. “Darling, I act like this about everybody.”

Charles shook his head. “No, you don't. You aren't constantly trying to get everyone to sleep with you, but that's what you're doing with me.”

Sebastian sighed heavily. “I just don't want to fuck any of them. I want to fuck you. I don't really see why that's such a big deal. Everyone keeps trying to tell me that you won't go for it but I know you'll give in eventually. Everyone does.”

Charles took a long sip of his drink. “I don't want to fuck you, Sebastian. And I'm not going to.”

“Ah, you say that now, but you'll change your mind,” Sebastian said plainly. “Ask Sean about it. He came in here as one of Erik's pet projects all sad and broken, I decided we should fuck, he resisted it for a while before giving in, we fucked, and then I lost interest. I really don't think it will be any different with you.”

Charles forced himself to take a deep breath. He was not going to think about how used that made him feel, even without Sebastian touching him. “It's not going to happen, Sebastian.”

“Why not?” Sebastian said, then something occurred to him and he turned to Charles with wide eyes. “Fuck, am I not attractive anymore? Do I need an entire style makeover? Should I go have Botox?”

Charles let out a laugh at Sebastian's panic. “No. You're gorgeous. I just don't want to fuck you. That's all.”

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God because I was seriously worried about my image there for a second. And I still say you're going to change your mind. I'm a little whore and everyone around here knows it, and you're just the latest on the list of people that I want to bang. I've been working through it while I'm waiting for you to get with the program. I might have to give in and fuck Janos and Azazel if this doesn't happen soon.”

Charles sucked in a sharp breath. “You're not a whore, Sebastian.”

“No, I really am,” Sebastian said seriously. “I'll fuck or suck anyone at any time in any place. Only difference between me and a hooker is that they get paid for it.”

Charles downed the rest of his drink in one sip and slammed the glass down on the bar, yelping when it broke in his hand. “Fuck.”

“I've never seen that happen before,” Sebastian said, reaching out and pulling Charles's hand away from the glass. “Oooh, that looks nasty.”

Charles glanced down to see blood all over his hand and quickly pulled it out of Sebastian's grasp. “Shit. I've got to go. Will you clean up that glass for me? Great, thanks.”

Charles quickly fled the room and made his way up to the apartment, sticking his hand underneath the faucet in the kitchen and gasping as the hot water stung his hand. When most of the blood was washed away he got a good look at the cut, and he sighed in relief when he saw it wasn't large. He pulled his hand away from the water and grabbed some paper towels, holding them against his palm. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself down.

Sebastian wasn't a whore. He wasn't. Sebastian may fuck anything that walks, but he didn't get paid for it. Charles got paid for it. 

Charles was the whore, not Sebastian. 

After a few moments, he started searching around in the cabinets for some bandages, found what he was looking for, and doctored up his hand. Then he checked the clock, made sure his shift was over, and went into his room. 

What he needed was some drugs and to lie on the floor. That always made things better, no matter what Erik said. He needed it. He needed this. And he wasn't going to let anyone take it away from him.


	13. Chapter 13

Erik stood with Hank in the doorway that led into the restaurant, watching as Emma showed Darwin the way the cash register worked. “So, Charles knows him, hm?”

“Said they were in the same situation,” Hank murmured. “Darwin said as much to me as well.”

“I don't have another spare room,” Erik sighed. “I don't have anywhere to put him.”

“He's got a friend too. Well, boyfriend, from the sounds of it. I didn't really ask too many questions because I didn't want to seem too intrusive.”

“Probably a good idea. You think he's strung out on drugs too?”

“Seems to have a better handle on it than Charles, but yes.”

“I wonder if Scott would mind if I had him and the boyfriend stay in his apartment while he's gone. I've got to remember to start finding a new place for him too.”

“New place?”

“Let's just say that I met the intermediary between Scott and his dealer while I was over there yesterday and there is no way in hell I'm letting him live there anymore.”

Hank sighed heavily. “Well, I'll help with that if you want. I need to find a new place of my own.”

Erik looked over at him. “Why?”

“Too many memories,” Hank said quietly. “Everywhere I look, I see her, which is ridiculous since she never lived there.”

“Have you run into her yet?” Erik asked. “I know that she's been in a few times looking for me.”

“No, I've managed to avoid that somehow.”

“It's only a matter of time.”

“I know,” Hank said, running his hands over his face. “Let's get back to Darwin and Charles.”

Erik took the change of subject for what it was. “I've got to find a place to put them, especially if they're just staying in a hostel.”

“I'm sure that Scott wouldn't mind if they were there for a few nights,” Hank said. “He's done that with your pet projects before.”

“Yeah, but he was there with them. I'm not letting them stay there without him without talking to him about it first, and the last thing he needs right now is me asking about that,” Erik said, watching as Darwin walked towards one of the tables with a tray filled with food. “He seems to be catching on quick.”

“He told me that he'd been a waiter before, so I think that's just his experience showing through.” Hank paused. “What are you going to do about Charles?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I can tell that you're unhappy with the fact that he didn't tell you about this, I did.”

“I'm not unhappy. I just think I now understand why it is that he was so drunk and high last night.” Erik looked over at the stairs when the door at the top opened. “And there he is.”

“There who is?” Charles asked sleepily, coming down the stairs. 

“There you are,” Erik said, smiling at him. “Good morning, Charles.”

“Morning,” Charles said, looking out into the restaurant. “Oh good, Darwin actually showed up.”

“You thought he wouldn't?” Hank asked.

“I thought he might run for the hills after he saw me,” Charles said honestly. “I would have. Having us together here makes us both sitting ducks for someone who wants to cash in on those bounties.”

“You and I are going to have a conversation about these bounties another time,” Erik said seriously. “Right now, you're going to introduce me to Darwin.”

“Okay,” Charles said, following him out in to the restaurant. “Darwin.”

Darwin turned around and smiled. “Hey, Charles.”

“This is Erik,” Charles said, motioning to him. “He's the owner.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Erik said, shaking Darwin's hand. “And I'm really glad you're here.”

“Me too,” Darwin said. “Thank you so much for the job. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“I think I do, actually,” Erik said. “I've been told you're staying in a hostel near here with a friend. Is that right?”

“Yeah. Really going to have to figure out something else soon though. The hostel is really eating into the little bit of money that we have.”

“Well, you're not staying there anymore,” Erik said. “I'll put you up in a hotel until I can find you somewhere more permanent.”

Darwin's eyes widened and he looked over at Charles, who just nodded. “As I said, he likes to help people.”

“That's amazing, though. I thought the job was the most I was going to get because he was helping you.”

“I help anyone who needs it,” Erik said. “I am a firm believer in second chances and I will do whatever is necessary to help a person get one.”

“Darwin!” came Sean's voice. “Order up!”

“I'll let you get back to work, but I'll have a hotel ready for you to check into before you leave today, alright?” Erik said, smiling when Darwin nodded vigorously.

“I cannot ever repay you for this,” Darwin said. “This is amazing.”

“You don't have to repay me,” Erik said. “That's the point. Now get back to work.”

Darwin walked towards the counter and Erik turned to Charles. “Let's go talk upstairs.”

Charles nodded and followed Erik to the stairs. “I was going to tell you about him but I guess Hank beat me to it.”

“That's fine, Charles,” Erik said as they headed up the stairs. “I can imagine seeing him yesterday was difficult.” 

“You've got that right,” Charles murmured, following Erik into the apartment. “Thank you for helping him and Alex out. It means a lot to me.”

“I'm happy to help,” Erik said, turning to Charles once the door was shut and locked. “Bounties?”

Charles just shrugged. “I told you. Cain has people who run on him tracked down and shot.”

Erik just shook his head and walked over to him. “Charles, have you ever thought about trying to get Cain arrested?”

“That's not possible.”

“It's unbelievably possible,” Erik said seriously. “He's running something that sounds like it's tantamount to sex slavery and he needs to be in prison because of it.”

“The police wouldn't listen to a word I have to say.”

“And why is that?”

Charles laughed. “I'm a whore, Erik. Our word generally means nothing.”

“No,” Erik said, shaking his head. “You are not a whore.”

“I sell myself for sex, Erik. If that doesn't make me a whore, I don't know what does.”

“You do not sell yourself for sex,” Erik pointed out. “You run the inventory at my restaurant.”

“What?”

“We'll get into that in a moment. But you're not a whore, Charles. That is your past and the more you hang onto the idea that you're still that person, the longer it's going to be before you overcome it.”

“But I am still that person,” Charles said, sighing when he saw the look on Erik's face.

“Do you think I'd get the same answer out of Darwin if I brought him up here to ask him if he was a whore?” Erik asked, continuing when Charles didn't say a thing. “Why is it so important to you that you keep thinking of yourself like that?”

“I don't expect you to understand.”

“Make me.”

“If I keep telling myself I'm a whore, then I stay one. And the moment I stop thinking of myself in that manner is the moment that I have to admit that I'm not.”

“Why don't you want to admit that you're not?”

“Because I just don't.”

“Charles.”

Charles stood there for a moment. “If I admit that I'm not a whore then I have to admit to myself that there is no reason not to get my inheritance. And right now I need a fuck ton of reasons not to get my inheritance.”

“Why?” Erik asked. “It's just some money.”

“No, it's more than just some money and you know it,” Charles said, walking over to the sofa and collapsing down onto it. “There's so much more that comes along with being the Xavier heir than just money.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I'm not ready to be the sole living member of the great Xavier family and dealing with everything that entails.”

Erik's eyes widened at that. “Sole living member?”

“I'm the only one left with the last name Xavier, and every other family member that is out there is a distant relative.” Charles slumped down against the cushions. “Look, I'm afraid about a lot of stuff about all of this, but I'm mostly afraid that you're going to kick me out if I get this money, and I honestly don't think I'd make it five days outside of these walls before I'd tried to kill myself. And I'm not sure that staying here is going to stop that from happening anyway.”

“I've told you before, Charles, I'm not going to kick you out,” Erik said, coming to sit next to him. “You could have every single penny in the world and I'd still let you live here if that was what you needed.”

“Really?” Charles asked, his voice small.

“Yes, really,” Erik said, smiling at him. “I'm more than a little concerned about this suicide talk though.”

“You can't really be that surprised.”

“Surprised isn't the word for it. Worried is a much better one.”

Charles sighed. “I'm not going to, I think. My life is so much better now that it really isn't funny. But I'm quite serious when I say that if I wasn't here, I probably would.”

“Then it's a good thing that you're not going anywhere then, isn't it?” Erik said. “Still, I think you might need someone better than me to help with everything that has happened to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I think you need a therapist, Charles.”

Charles shook his head. “No.”

“Charles.”

“Absolutely not. It's bad enough Hank knows all that he does. I'm not about to go tell some stranger everything that happened to me.”

“Will you at least think about it? For me? Especially if someday you are going to be the public face of the Xavier family again, which is what I know you're really worried about.”

Charles shook his head again. “I will never be the public face of the Xavier family. I am a private citizen and intend to remain as such.”

Erik nodded. “Then that can be made clear to whoever inquires about it, you know.”

“You really won't kick me out?” Charles asked after a moment. “Even if I refuse to see a therapist?”

“No, Charles. I'm not going to kick you out over that either.”

“I still don't know why you're helping me. I don't know why you're helping them either. No one who is a whore deserves help.”

Erik sighed heavily. “Whores are still people, Charles. And people deserve help. You are not a whore, however, and neither is Darwin. If this Alex wants to come in and have a job, then we'll find a place for him as well. I want to help all of you because you deserve to be helped and you need it from someone. I happen to be someone that can.”

“You really do have a lot of money, don't you?” Charles asked.

“Not Xavier family level or anything, but I do, yes,” Erik said. “My grandfather in Germany was a really successful businessman. When he died, he left everything to me. It was that money that enabled me to buy Station Thirty from its previous owner and turn it into what it is today. Everyone around here knows I have money from somewhere. They don't necessarily know where. But they all know that if they need anything they can come to me for help. I'll help anyone who needs it.”

“I believe you,” Charles breathed out. “I don't know why, but I believe you.”

“That makes me happy because there is no reason for you not to believe me.” Erik glanced at the clock and sighed. “I have an appointment across town that I need to leave for, but when I get back, we'll talk more about how you're the head of inventory now, okay?”

Charles gave him a confused look. “I thought that was Bobby.”

“It was, but now it's you,” Erik said as he stood. “Bobby is now the club's manager, and when Scott gets back, he's going to help me run the entire place. I had to make some changes and these are the changes I decided upon.”

“Shouldn't someone who has worked here longer get the promotion?” Charles asked.

Erik laughed. “I wouldn't trust any of those bitches that work in the restaurant with running inventory for it.”

“But you're going to trust me with it?”

“Yes, Charles, I am,” Erik said, smiling at him. “We'll talk more about it when I get back. Ir really do need to leave now.”

Charles nodded and watched as Erik left the apartment, sitting there for a few moments before getting up and following him down the stairs. He would hang out in the restaurant and keep Sean company, which would give him a way to keep an eye on Darwin at the same time. 

They hadn't exactly been friends, because no one was friends with anyone when Cain was around, but Darwin was the closest that he'd had to a friend while he was there. Alex was someone that he kind of knew and liked, and maybe he'd become a friend eventually too, but for now, the goal was to make a friend out of Darwin.

After all, friends were a good thing, and Charles was beginning to have a lot of them.

**********

Bobby walked up behind John and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, peering over his shoulder. “What are you making?”

“Dinner,” John said, reaching out to stir the sauce.

Bobby frowned slightly and tried again, kissing the side of his neck. “I'm glad you're home tonight, Johnny.”

“Just for a little while. Party over at that place on Broadway at midnight tonight,” John said absently, bringing the spoon up to his lips and tasting the sauce. “Needs something.”

Bobby took the spoon from his hands and tasted it, nodding against his shoulder. “More oregano.”

“Yeah,” John said, reaching towards the spice rack when Bobby grabbed his wrist. “Baby, what is it?”

“Nothing,” Bobby said, pulling away and walking out of the kitchen.

John turned the stove off, sliding the saucepan onto a cold burner. “Bobby.”

“It's nothing!” Bobby called out. “Go back to cooking.”

John sighed as he walked out of the kitchen, glancing around the apartment before heading into the bedroom. “What's wrong?”

Bobby sighed and sat down on the bed. “Nothing.”

John shook his head and leaned against the doorway, knowing from experience that Bobby wouldn't be able to hold back for much longer. “Tell me or I won't finish dinner.”

“That's fine. I need to lose a few pounds anyway.”

“The fuck you do. You're skinnier than I've ever seen you.” John rolled his eyes. “Fucking tell me what is wrong.”

“There is nothing to tell you,” Bobby said in annoyance. “But apparently there is something you need to tell me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was on the phone with Doug earlier and he asked me if we'd run into Piotr yet,” Bobby said. “When I said yes, he said he hoped things weren't awkward now that we'll be around him a lot. And when I asked why things would be awkward, he said, 'Oh, so Johnny hasn't told you then.' So what is it that you haven't told me?”

“Fucking Doug,” John mumbled under his breath, letting his eyes close. “It's nothing, gorgeous. Piotr and I just had a little disagreement the last time we saw each other.”

“I don't remember you having a disagreement with him, John,” Bobby said, sending a glare in his direction. “Tell me what Dough meant or I'm going to ask Piotr.”

“There's nothing to tell,” John exclaimed. “What the fuck would Doug know that you wouldn't?”

“You are lying to me,” Bobby said, standing up. “Fine, if that's the way it's going to be, I'm leaving.”

John sighed. “And where are you going?”

“I don't know,” Bobby said, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his wallet off of the side table. “When you decide to stop lying to me, I'll be back.”

John grabbed Bobby by the elbow as he tried to walk of the room. “I'm not lying to you.”

“Yes,” Bobby said, pulling his arm away from John's grasp, “you are. You think I can't tell after all this time? I know when you are lying, I know when you are being honest, I know when you are confused, I know when you are upset. I know everything there is to know about you, except maybe I don't. And that's the part that has me worried right now.”

John sighed as Bobby walked out of the apartment, reaching for his phone the moment the door was closed and he could no longer hear Bobby's steps in the hallway. He had to warn Piotr before Bobby showed up over there.


	14. Chapter 14

Kurt slammed Piotr up against the apartment door, kissing him fiercely while Piotr searched his pockets for the keys. Kurt had just gotten his hands underneath Piotr's shirt as Piotr's hand closed around the keys in his pocket when they were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat next to them. Kurt pulled back, eyes slightly wide, as Piotr gasped for breath and glanced towards where the sound had come from. “Fucking hell, Bobby.”

“I'm sorry,” Bobby said softly, reaching out to touch Piotr on the arm. “I didn't know I would be interrupting.”

Piotr nodded and reached out, pulling Kurt back to him. “Well, you are.”

“Piotr,” Kurt said, glancing at him before looking over at Bobby. “Honey, you okay? You don't look so good.”

“I don't know. Doug said something, and then Johnny...” Bobby shook his head. “No, no, it's alright. You are busy. I understand.”

Piotr sighed as Bobby started to leave, reaching out to grab his arm before he could get very far. “Hey, you want to come inside? Have a glass of wine and tell us what's wrong?”

“Are you sure?” Bobby asked.

Kurt glanced at Piotr again before smiling at Bobby. “Of course, honey.”

Piotr pulled out his keys and unlocked the door as Kurt wrapped his arm around Bobby. “Why don't you sit down, and we'll go into the kitchen and grab some glasses and a good bottle of red, okay?”

“Do you have something stronger than wine?” Bobby asked, following them into the apartment. “Depending on the answers to the questions I have, I might need to get drunk.”

“Sure, honey,” Piotr said, grabbing Kurt by the wrist and pulling him into the kitchen. “Fuck.”

“Is this what John warned you about?”

Piotr nodded and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Johnny and I used to fuck. Bobby doesn't know about it.”

Kurt sighed heavily. “And when were you going to tell me that?”

“Tonight once we were done with our plans,” Piotr said, walking over to the cabinets and opening one up. “Get some glasses, will you? I'll find the bourbon.”

“I will in a minute,” Kurt said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you going to say to him?”

Piotr's shoulders slumped. “I'm going to tell him the truth. I thought he already knew about this.”

“I already knew about what?” Bobby asked, drawing their attention to the fact that he'd walked into the room. “What did Doug mean?”

Piotr leaned up against the counter and ran his hands over his face. “Don't you think that's something that's better explained by Johnny?”

“Why is everyone lying to me?” Bobby exclaimed. “Why can't someone just tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“I'm not lying to you!” Piotr exclaimed. “I have never lied to you about this! I just always thought you knew and this was a subject that was definitely never going to come up!”

Bobby groaned. “Knew what?”

“It's not my place to tell you,” Piotr said. “Johnny needs to tell you.”

Bobby turned to Kurt, and Kurt stared at Piotr for a moment before sighing. “If what you just told me is true, then Johnny's never going to tell him.”

“I just want to know,” Bobby said, slumping down against the counter. “I just want someone to tell me what is going on so I can figure out how to deal with it.”

Piotr sighed as Kurt wrapped an arm around him, settling his head on Kurt's shoulder. “It's not about anything that's going on now. It's about years ago, before any of us left Los Angeles.”

“What?” Bobby asked, shaking his head slightly.

Piotr took a deep breath and tangled his fingers with Kurt's. “Back when we were all still in Los Angeles. Back when you had first started dating him. Way, way too long ago for this to be any sort of issue now, and if Johnny wasn't such a fucking idiot, it wouldn't be.”

Bobby stared at Piotr for a moment. “What, did you sleep with him or something?”

Piotr squeezed Kurt's fingers and stayed silent, refusing to meet Bobby's piercing gaze. 

“You motherfucking didn't. Tell me you motherfucking didn't.”

Piotr swallowed hard. “I thought it started before he met you,” he whispered. “But apparently it didn't.”

Bobby took a deep breath and stood up, stopping to drop a kiss onto Kurt's cheek as he passed. “Thank you.”

“Bobby, honey,” Kurt said, but Bobby just shook his head and walked out of the apartment.

“Oh, that's not good,” Piotr murmured, dropping his head into his hands. “That's really, really not good.”

“Let them figure it out,” Kurt said, pulling Piotr away from the counter. “Let's just get to our plans.”

Piotr stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Right. Let them figure it out.”

**********

“So, you want to talk about how you know Darwin yet?” Sean asked, turning back to the grill to flip some pancakes. “Because both of you are very skittish around each other.”

Charles sighed heavily and slumped down against the counter. “It's really complicated, Sean. And I really don't want anyone to figure out about it.”

“Find out about what?” Darwin asked as he walked behind the counter, tearing a slip off his order book and handing it to Sean. “Bacon and eggs.”

“Ooh, an easy one.” Sean turned around and stuck the order up. “And I'm trying to get Charles to talk about how you two know each other.”

“Oh,” Darwin said, glancing over at Charles. “I'd really rather keep that to ourselves.”

“Why does no one want to tell me how you know each other?” Sean exclaimed. “I'm not asking you to go into your backgrounds. I'm just asking you to tell me how you know each other.”

“Sean, motherfucking stop it now,” came Erik's voice, and they all looked to see him walking around the counter. “Get back to fucking work and knock it the fuck off. If they want to tell you, then they will tell you. Otherwise, shut the fuck up about it.”

“Yes, sir,” Sean said, turning to the grill with a huff. “I'm just trying to learn things about them. I want to know them both better.”

“I know, honey, but you also know you're not supposed to press things like this,” Erik said, glancing around the restaurant. “Charles, Darwin, why don't you come into the office with me for a moment?”

Charles stood up and started walking towards the office without saying a thing, leaving Erik and Darwin to trail along behind him. Once he was in the office, he dropped down on the sofa and ran his hands over his face. As soon as the door was closed, he looked up at Erik with pleading eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I've done but I'm sorry. I'll do anything to make up for it. Absolutely anything.”

“You haven't done anything wrong, Charles, I promise,” Erik said, motioning for Darwin to join Charles on the sofa. “I wanted to talk to you about Cain.”

“Why do you want to talk about that motherfucker?” Darwin asked as he sat down. “I'd rather not talk about him ever again.”

“I understand that,” Erik said, “but I think that things with you two will improve more rapidly if you were to get him arrested.”

“Not this again,” Charles groaned.

“I'm serious, Charles. You can get him arrested.”

“No, I really can't.”

“You think we could?” Darwin asked. “No one is going to believe a whore.”

“That's what I said,” Charles replied.

“How do you think that guys like Cain are ever locked up?” Erik inquired. “It's because of people like you going to the police and saying, 'hey, this is what is going on and there's a lot more people who need help.' I know you think that you can't do this but I promise you that you can. I'll get you a great lawyer to help protect you.”

“Jean?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” Erik said. “I don't know of a better lawyer in the state.”

“I appreciate what you're trying to do,” Darwin said after a moment. “But I still don't think that this can happen.”

“Well, it never is going to happen unless you talk to someone about it,” Erik pointed out. “Will you at least think about it?”

“Thinking about it is pointless because I'm never going to change my mind. I don't want to get arrested.”

“You're not going to get arrested, Charles. I'll make sure of that before I ever get you face to face with an officer.”

“And I suppose that you have an officer in mind already, don't you?” Charles challenged. “Someone all picked out and waiting in the wings for the day that you can manipulate us into doing what you want.”

“No,” Erik said, his voice tinged with the hurt he felt. “I'd never manipulate you into anything, Charles. And you know that.” 

Charles stood up and walked towards the door. “I don't know what I know right now.”

Erik sighed as he left the room and turned to Darwin. “Will you think about it?”

“Is Charles alright?” Darwin asked. “Because he...”

“He's fine,” Erik said dismissively. “This is just a very sensitive subject with him.”

“I can understand that,” Darwin said. “He was Cain's moneymaker. He made Charles work more than anybody.”

“What did he make him do?” Erik asked softly. “Charles is very reluctant to talk about it.”

Darwin leaned back into the sofa. “Charles was popular. Always the first one of us picked off the corner. So Cain kept him out there. Pumped him full of drugs and had him stand on that corner for hours, sometimes days without letting him come back inside. And then when he did let him come back inside, he'd only let him stay there for a few hours before sending him back out again.”

“So Charles was abused more than any of you,” Erik murmured.

“Yes,” Darwin said. “And that's why Cain wants him dead so badly. He lost his moneymaker.”

A knock came at the door before Erik could say anything else. “Darwin's order is up,” came Hank's voice. “And there's customers that need attended to.” 

“Get back to work,” Erik said, and Darwin stood. “And Darwin? Thank you for the information. I really do hope you'll think about getting Cain locked up.”

“I'll think about it,” Darwin said before leaving the office. 

Erik stood there for several minutes before running his hands over his face and walking out of the room. He now fully understood how broken Charles was and he didn't quite know what to do about it.

**********

“Charles, I love you, honey, but you can't sit at the counter in the restaurant and get drunk,” Hank said, staring at the bottle of whiskey that was sitting in front of him. “If you want to get drunk, you need to either do it in the club or the apartment.”

“I'm not getting drunk,” Charles said. “I am just having a drink.”

“Three drinks,” Sean pointed out. “And you just poured your fourth.”

The door to the restaurant slammed open before they could say anything else, and John walked inside. He immediately bypassed the counter and headed towards Bobby's office, but Hank shot him a strange look as he passed, shaking his head. “Johnny, he's not here.”

John stopped at the edge of the hallway and turned around, heading back to the counter. “What do you mean he's not here?”

“I mean he's not here,” Hank said. “Because he's now the club manager, he's not working during the day. You should know that.”

John sighed and kicked at a nearby chair. “Does anyone happen to know where the fuck he is then?”

Sean gave him a confused look. “You mean he's not at home?”

“No, he's not at home,” John said angrily, pushing his way past one of the customers and stalking back towards the door. “If you see him, tell him I'm motherfucking looking for him, okay?”

“Okay!” Hank called out, watching as John left. “What the fuck is that all about?”

“Nothing you need to be concerned with,” Bobby said, drawing their attention as he walked into the room. “Thanks for getting him to leave, bitches.”

“What is wrong?” Sean exclaimed. “I hate it when you two are arguing and this is way more than arguing.”

Bobby pulled Sean into a hug and pressed a kiss to his temple. “It's nothing you need to worry about, honey. I promise. Everything will be okay in a few days.”

“But you're not even talking to him!” Sean whined, shaking Bobby's arms. “Bobby, you don't understand. You two are my power couple. I need you to be happy and smiley and to persevere in the face of adversity from the new hot vixen in town and to not let the crazy rapist murdering priest tear you apart and just for everything to be okay or my whole world feels like it's falling apart.”

“Sean,” Bobby said, putting his hands on Sean's cheeks and making him look at him. “I just need some time to think about some things before I talk to him again. So, calm down. Stop acting like life is a soap opera. There is no new hot vixen, no crazy rapist murdering priest, and your whole world is not falling apart. Everything will be okay, honey. I promise you.”

Sean blinked rapidly. “Maybe I should miss today's episode of the Young and the Restless.”

“I think that's a good idea, sweetheart,” Bobby agreed.

“And maybe the Bold and the Beautiful and General Hospital too.”

Hank laughed. “How many of those things do you watch?”

“See, it used to just be a few, right?” Sean said, glancing at the grill before turning back to them. “But then I realized that I had enough money to get cable television, and then I ended up with this channel that shows nothing but soap operas, and it shows replays of the ones that aired on the networks during the day, right? And then there's all the great Mexican ones on the Spanish channels. So, it's like all I watch, except for the times that something like Drag Race is on.”

Bobby pulled Sean closer, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “Oh honey, I think you need to watch something else.”

“But then I won't be able to watch re-runs of 90210 in the afternoons,” Sean said, pulling away from Bobby when Darwin walked behind the counter with an order. 

“Oh, Sean, you need some serious help.” Hank just shook his head. “90210?”

Sean let out a squeaking noise as he reached for his spatula. “Oh please, girl. You know you totally wish you could watch David and Donna's wedding again.”

“No, actually, I don't,” Hank said, turning his attention to Charles when Charles reached for the bottle again. “Charles, I'm serious. You can't sit there and get drunk.”

“Charles,” Darwin said, drawing his attention to him. “Is this about what Erik talked to us about?”

Charles just nodded.

“I get it, I do, but getting drunk isn't going to solve anything.”

“And I suppose you think we should do what Erik was talking about,” Charles said bitterly. 

“I'm not making that decision for you,” Darwin said seriously. “But I might make that decision for me, or for me and Alex after I talk to him about it. Something needs to be done about him.”

Charles stood up and swayed a bit before grabbing the bottle off the counter. “I can't listen to this.”

Darwin shook his head as Charles walked out of the room. “I don't blame him. I really don't.”

“And I suppose you're not going to talk to us about whatever this is about?” Hank asked, nodding when Darwin shook his head again.

“Well, if you ever want to, we'll listen.”

“I think I'm starting to really know that,” Darwin said, smiling at him. “Thanks, Hank.”

“You're welcome,” Hank said as Darwin walked away. “I'm not sure if Darwin working here is better or worse for Charles.”

“At the moment, I'm thinking it's worse,” Bobby said, glancing at the clock. “Alright, bitches, I'll be back to get the club ready. In the meantime, I need some retail therapy.”

“Oh, get something really sexy,” Sean declared. “That will help resolve things between you and Johnny.”

Bobby just shook his head. “That's not going to resolve anything between me and Johnny. Trust me.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Is Charles okay?” Sebastian asked when Emma brought him his soda. “Because he seems to be very much not okay.”

Emma glanced over at the counter where Sean was trying to get Charles to engage in conversation. “All I've been able to work out is that Erik talked to him and Darwin about something that Darwin is considering and Charles is terrified about.”

“I wonder what that could be,” Sebastian murmured.

“Well, you're welcome to try to get it out of him,” Emma said, walking away. “But you're telling me if you do!”

“Of course, honey!” Sebastian called back before reaching for his soda. 

He watched Charles before deciding that what he needed at that moment was a friend. And Sebastian Shaw was capable of being a friend, no matter what anyone said.

“Charles,” he yelled out. “Come sit with me, darling!”

Charles sat there and Sebastian heard Sean tell him that he could just ignore it. But before Sebastian could offer up some sort of a retort, Charles stood up and walked over to the table. “Good afternoon, darling,” he said as Charles sat down. “A little early to be drinking, isn't it? It's barely past noon.”

Charles glanced from Sebastian to his whiskey and back to Sebastian. “No.”

“Well, okay then,” Sebastian said, smiling at him. “I'm not really one to talk. I had a gin before I came here.”

Charles let out a chuckle. “I cannot imagine you drinking gin.”

“I'll drink anything with alcohol in it, darling. Gin is just what I could afford this week.”

Charles gave him a small smile. “I used to buy as many of those sample bottles at the register as I could get. Didn't matter what they were.”

“Exactly my point. As long as it gets you drunk, who cares what it is.” Sebastian paused. “So, why do you want to get drunk?”

Charles sighed. “That's not fair.”

“What's not fair?”

“All you want is to know what everyone wants to know and I'm not talking about that with anyone.”

“That's not all I want, darling,” Sebastian said quickly. “You know I love talking to you. I just think it's very unusual for you to be drinking right now. Did you hear from the ex or something?”

Charles took a deep breath. “Something.”

“Or wait!” Sebastian exclaimed. “Is Darwin the ex?”

“No,” Charles said firmly. “Darwin is a friend and former colleague. That's all.”

“Good, because I really didn't want to have to kick his ass. He looks stronger than me,” Sebastian said, smiling. “Which reminds me, I was thinking you should use the guest pass I have for my gym. You really need to put on some muscle. You're too skinny.”

“No.”

“Then maybe a little retail therapy? We've got to do something together.”

“No to that too.”

Sebastian sighed. “You're really that afraid of running into your ex?”

“Charles.”

Charles looked over to see Erik waving him into the back, so he stood. “It's not my ex,” he murmured before walking away.

Sebastian took that in, watched Charles walk towards Erik, and mentally went through the list of things he'd learned about him since the Fourth of July. Charles was reclusive and skittish, refused to talk about his past at all, didn't want to leave the restaurant, and he liked to be drunk and high all of the time.

He gasped and knocked over his soda, cursing as it spilled all over the table. Emma shook her head as she came over to the table with a rag. “What's got you so excited?”

“I think I figured it out,” Sebastian said, beaming. “Well, not what Erik said to Darwin and Charles, but what's really got Charles so depressed. I need one last piece of information that you could helpfully provide.”

“And what is that?” Emma asked as she began to wipe up the mess.

“Charles's last name. I don't know it.”

“I don't know it either,” Emma said, glancing over at him. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with my theory of who Charles really is.”

“Who Charles really is? I think you've been watching too many daytime soaps, honey.”

“No, I haven't. I'm not Sean.” Sebastian shook his head. “I'm being serious.”

“And what exactly are you expecting his last name to be then?”

“Simple,” Sebastian said, shrugging. “Xavier.”

Emma stopped what she was doing and stared at him. “You think Charles is Sharon Xavier's son. Have you lost your mind?”

“Nope.”

“If he is a Xavier, then why is he here? He should be in that fucking mansion, not sleeping in Erik's apartment.”

“But not if he lost his way,” Sebastian said. “Think about it. He gets mixed up with this motherfucker of an ex, he leads Charles into a life of alcohol and drugs, and dear, darling mother kicks Charles out. The motherfucker destroys him, ruins him really, and he's left like this with nowhere to go. A perfect subject for Erik's pet project program.”

Emma thought about it for a moment. “Well, it's not the most outrageous theory you've ever come up with, but I still think you're wrong.”

“I'll bet you that cute Gucci dress you were showing me the other day that I'm not.”

Emma's jaw dropped. “Honey, that dress is fifteen hundred dollars. It's a pipe dream.”

“And if I am wrong, I will buy it for you,” Sebastian said.

“Well, if you're going to be this stupid then fine. But you aren't getting anything worth more than a hundred dollars out of me. I'll be lucky if I have money to refill my MetroCard tonight if I don't get enough tips today.”

“Just tell Erik that and I'm sure he'll help you,” Sebastian said dismissively. “And you won't have to get me anything beyond a public admission that I am right.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“Then it's a bet,” Sebastian said. “And can you bring me another soda? I really do need a drink.”

“You are lucky I like you, bitch,” Emma said, picking up the empty glass and walking away.

“Aw, I love you too, sweetie!”

**********

Erik walked into the room and sat down at the table, his fingers nervously tapping at the table's edge. The room wasn't as hospital-like as he'd been expecting, warm red walls instead of crisp white, a faint smell of something floral in the air instead of harsh antiseptic. It felt comfortable and inviting, but stopped short of making someone feel like they were at home. He took a deep breath and glanced down, wringing his hands together lightly. He really didn't know why he was so nervous.

He looked up when he heard the door open slightly, a smile crossing his face when he heard Scott's voice drift into the room. He pushed his chair back as the door opened further, standing up as Scott walked into the room. The woman standing behind Scott smiled at Erik and reached for the doorknob, saying that she would give them a few minutes before they had to go over the paperwork. When the door was closed, Erik walked over to Scott and pulled him into a hug. Scott immediately buried his face in Erik's neck and Erik pulled him closer, brushing a gentle kiss along Scott's temple. 

“I missed you so much,” Scott whispered. “So, so much.”

“I missed you too. We all did.” Erik grinned as Scott pulled back. “You look good. Really, really fucking fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Scott said softly, taking in Erik's appearance. “You look terrible.”

Erik laughed. “Emma nearly set the place on fire again. Didn't get a lot of sleep today.”

“No,” Scott said, glancing towards the clock, “I guess you wouldn't have. You should just be getting up now.”

“It doesn't matter,” Erik said. “I'm getting you out of here. I'd trade sleep for that any day.”

“If they hadn't given me something to make me sleep, I probably wouldn't have gotten any either,” Scott said, letting go of Erik and turning towards the table. “Let's sit down.”

Erik sat down next to him . “I am so proud of you for doing this.”

Scott laughed lightly. “Thanks, Mama.”

Erik slapped at his shoulder. “Scott, I'm trying to be serious here.”

“I know,” Scott said, sliding his chair closer and putting his head on Erik's shoulder. “But there's nothing to be proud of yet. It has only been a month.”

“That's something to be incredibly proud of and you know it,” Erik said, brushing another kiss along his temple. “And I don't care what you're about to say, I'm still going to be proud of you for doing this.”

“Fine, fine,” Scott murmured. “I can't wait to get home tonight. It's been a long time.”

“You're not going home.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am never letting you go back to that place again except to pack your stuff. Supervised.”

Scott sat up and sighed. “You went over to my apartment, didn't you?”

“Addie was most helpful,” Erik said. “And you owe me three hundred dollars. I'll pay for your rehab but there's no fucking way I'm paying for your drugs.”

Scott nodded. “My office too?”

“Searched the whole place in case you were lying about where it was,” Erik said, his voice softening. “I am so sorry that I never noticed. I would have done anything to help.”

“You did do everything to help,” Scott murmured. “Part of the therapy here has been to get me to let go of my hopes of finding Alex. He's dead. He has to be.”

“I am not letting you do that,” Erik said firmly. “And I might have a theory on that, but I need to check with a couple of people before I'm willing to let you know about it.”

“Erik, really, it's fine.”

“No, it really isn't.”

Scott stared at him for a moment. “I can't put myself through this again, Erik.”

“I won't let you. But that doesn't mean we still can't find Alex.”

“Alright, alright,” Scott said. “We'll find Alex.”

“That's more like it. You'll have to stay on the sofa until we can get you another apartment because I really am not letting you go back there.”

“Then I'll sleep on the sofa. But I just signed a new lease, Erik. I can't break it.”

“I will buy your lease out then,” Erik said seriously. “You are not going back there without supervision.”

“Fine,” Scott said, running his hands over his face. “Can I have a couple of days before I have to go back to work in the club? I'm not sure I'm entirely ready for that.”

“Of course, you can. But you're not going back to work in the club.”

Scott looked over at him. “What?”

Erik started to speak but the door opened again, so he gave Scott a smile. “I'll tell you all about it in the car on the way home, okay?”

**********

Theresa sighed as someone walked towards the door, ignoring the protests from the queens that hadn't yet made it into the club. “If you're not on the list, you've got to wait in the line, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I'm not here for the club,” the man said, glancing around. “I was looking for Erik Lehnsherr. Someone told me that he worked here.”

“Erik, yeah, he owns the place,” Theresa said, leaning back against the wall and looking the man up and down. “But he's not here tonight.”

The man frowned. “Oh.”

“You know him?”

“Not really,” the man said, stepping closer to the rope and holding out his hand. “I'm Peter.”

“Theresa,” she replied, shaking his hand. “You want to talk to him about a job or something?”

Peter nodded. “Something like that. So, will he be back tomorrow night?”

“He'll be in the restaurant in the afternoon, most likely,” Theresa said, glancing up as some people came out of the club. “If not, then he'll be helping to keep these queens in line, as usual.”

Peter sighed. “Then I guess I'll come back tomorrow then.”

“Alright,” Theresa said, walking towards the front of the line. “The club opens at seven. If you come around then, there won't be as many people here.”

Peter smiled. “Well, then I guess I'll see you around seven tomorrow, Theresa.”

**********

Jubilee rolled her eyes at Kitty as Marie walked away from the bar. “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?” Kitty asked, sighing when Jubilee pointed in Marie's direction. “What's wrong with her? She's fucking amazing.”

Jubilee rolled her eyes again. “You are not allowed to call someone wearing those shoes amazing.”

Kitty frowned and looked towards Marie's feet. “So she's wearing yellow heels. What's wrong with those?”

“Yellow strappy heels with a bright green shirt and shimmery black skinny jeans? And with that makeup? Oh please, girl.”

“She's a fucking makeup artist, you stupid bitch, so don't even talk about that because she knows way fucking more about it than you do. As for the rest of your complaint, fucking whatever, Jubes,” Kitty said, shaking her head. “I think she looks fine.”

“You would,” Jubilee replied, leaning back against the bar. “And don't even think about asking to get off early tonight. Bobby's not here so you have to help me close up.”

Kitty gave Jubilee a confused look. “What the fuck do you mean Bobby's not here? Did he leave?”

“About twenty minutes before John showed up,” Jubilee confirmed. “They still aren't speaking.”

“Fuck,” Kitty murmured. “This is bad, whatever it is. There's no one in the world more solid than Johnny and Bobby.”

“I know. But like I said, you can't leave early tonight.”

“Fuck,” Kitty groaned. “Well, Plan B then.”

Jubilee shook her head. “Don't even tell me you are going to have Marie stick around so you two can have some fun backstage.”

“Fine then,” Kitty said, walking towards the other end of the bar when she spotted a customer. “I won't.”


	16. Chapter 16

Emma walked into the restaurant and smiled at Darwin, the smile fading when she noticed the woman sitting in the corner. Sighing deeply, she walked over to the table and sat down, shaking her head as her gaze met Moira's. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Moira tried to smile. “I suppose I deserve that sort of reaction.”

“You deserve worse, you motherfucking bitch,” Emma said, letting the anger apparent in her voice disappear when Darwin walked up. “Morning, gorgeous.”

“Morning, baby,” Darwin said, grinning at her. “The special today?”

Emma shook her head. “Nah, I think I'll just have eggs and bacon today. And black coffee.”

“Got it,” Darwin said, turning towards Moira. “Anything else you need?”

Moira shook her head and smiled at Darwin. “No, I'm good here.”

“Alright then,” Darwin said, walking away.

“So why the fuck are you here?” Emma asked, settling back against her chair. “I can only imagine.”

Moira took a deep breath. “I'm here because I lived up to my end of our deal and I came to see if you were going to live up to yours.”

Emma stared at her. 

And kept staring at her.

And was still staring at her by the time Darwin arrived with her food. She broke the stare to smile at him and then went back to staring at Moira. “You lived up to your end of the deal.”

“I know, I know, it's hard to believe,” Moira said, reaching into her purse for something. “I knew you were going to have a difficult time believing me, which is why I brought you these.”

Moira tossed an envelope towards Emma and she caught it right before it landed on her plate. Sighing, she pulled the papers inside out and scanned over them, her eyes widening slightly as she read. “How long ago was this?”

“A week ago,” Moira said, reaching across the table to point out where the date was on the papers. “See?”

Emma sighed and folded the papers back up, stuffing them inside the envelope and tossing it back to Moira. “So, you're clean. Congratulations.”

“You could at least sound a little happy about it,” Moira said, poking at what was left of her hashbrowns with her fork. “I worked hard to get that way.”

Emma picked up her coffee. “And I said congratulations.”

“Fuck, I know I was a complete bitch to you, but I was completely fucked up and high all the time and I thought you would have realized that,” Moira said, sighing heavily. “I'm not here to beg for a second chance. I know that is fucked up way beyond motherfucking repair. I'm just asking for you to live up to your end of the deal we made, the deal that was made on the day you left for New York, I might add, and see if maybe at some point in time we could at least be friends again. I love you, Emma, but I'm not stupid enough to think that you could ever love me.”

“I did love you and that was half the problem.” Emma sat her coffee down and sighed, trying to ignore the eagerness in Moira's eyes. “So, where are you staying?”

“Some cheap hostel I found,” Moira said. “Look, if you've got someone and you don't want me at your place, just say so. I don't want to ruin anything for you. I've done that enough already.”

“No, I don't have anyone,” Emma sighed. “I suppose you can crash on my couch until you find a place of your own. We did have a deal, after all.”

Moira smiled. “You have no idea how much this means to me, Emmie. My therapist said I'm going to need all the help I can get at staying clean.”

“Do not call me Emmie,” she said firmly. “And you bring that shit into my house and I'll throw you out the fucking window. I'm not just talking about the crystal. I mean any of it.”

“I won't,” Moira said, shaking her head vigorously. “I promise you, I won't.”

Emma took a bite of her eggs and shook her head. “You have made way too many broken promises to me, Moira. You can say that all you want but I'm not stupid enough to believe you anymore.”

“I understand that,” Moira said softly. “I really do.”

“You have a job yet?”

“Yes,” Moira said. “Here.”

Emma's head shot up. “Excuse me?”

“I came in here to apply for the waitressing job. I start tomorrow.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What? I thought a job was a good place to start. I was going to tell you went I went to your place tonight when I thought you'd be off work.”

Emma sighed heavily. “I fucking work here, you stupid bitch.”

“You do?” Moira said in surprise. “I didn't know. I swear I didn't.”

Emma forced herself to take a deep breath. “I know you didn't. My parents have no idea where I work, so when you talked to them about where I was, they wouldn't have known this to tell you. I just motherfucking hate coincidences like this.”

Moira smiled. “I remember.”

“We are not discussing any of that,” Emma said seriously. “There will be absolutely no discussions of what went on in our past.”

“That's fine,” Moira said. “I don't want you to relive memories you don't want to relive.”

Emma reached for her coffee and took a long sip. “I suggest you start working on your persona.”

“My what?”

“If you are going to be working here, you will need a persona,” Emma said. “The queens that come in here are entirely too bitchy and they will relate more to your persona than they will to you as a person.”

“I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.”

“Hey, the White Queen is here!” came the voice of someone who just walked into the restaurant. “Ems, you gonna take my table today?”

“Not working today, Lizzie,” Emma called back. “Darwin will take good care of you.”

“I'll buy you a new tiara, sweetheart.”

“I'm not fucking waiting your table just because we're both in here, so get that fucking idea out of your head now, Lizzie.”

“Oh, alright. Darwin, beautiful, come here.”

Emma turned her attention back to Moira. “As I said, persona.”

“White Queen?” Moira couldn't help but smile. “Tiara?”

“What?” Emma said, shrugging. “It works.”

“I'll have to think about mine then.”

“No tiaras though. That's exclusively mine.”

“No tiaras, I promise.”

Emma took a couple of bites of her eggs. “So, any hometown gossip you want to spill, or are you just not aware of any?”

Moira laughed. “Oh, I have all the hometown gossip you want, honey. Where should I start?”

**********

Peter walked into the restaurant and took a deep breath, clutching the envelope in his hands a little tighter. He looked around to see if maybe Theresa was in there and when he noticed she wasn't, he took another deep breath before deciding that the counter was the best place to start. Walking over to it, he sat down on a stool and waited.

Sean came out of the back a moment later and noticed Peter, giving him a quick nod of the head before seeing that there was another order up. He quickly got the bacon and hashbrowns started before turning back towards him. “Have you been helped?”

“I'm looking for Erik Lehnsherr,” Peter forced himself to say, trying to shove down all the nerves. “I was told that he worked here.”

“Worked here? Oh, honey, Erik owns this place,” Sean said, glancing over at Darwin when he put another order up. “Fuck, why are we so busy this afternoon? Anyway, sweetheart, Erik should be around in a few minutes. He just ran across the street.”

“Thank you,” Peter said, taking another deep breath. This was going to go well. It had to.

“Are you here about the job?” Sean asked. “Because we just filled that this morning.”

“No, no, I'm not,” Peter said, shaking his head. “I have a letter for him.”

“A letter?”

“It's a long story,” Peter said, looking around. “This place seems nice.”

“It's the best,” Sean said proudly. “Erik has created, like, the most awesome place in the world. This is heaven for a homo. You should come down to the club sometime. I'm sure you'd find it to be fantastic.”

“I don't think I'd be allowed into the club, to be honest,” Peter said, causing Sean to study him for a moment.

“Wait, how old are you?”

“I'm sixteen,” Peter said softly.

“Yeah, the club is definitely not a place that you should be,” Sean said, turning back to the grill. “Unless you have a fake ID. In which case, the club is definitely a place you should be.”

“Something tells me that I won't be allowed in there once Erik reads this letter,” Peter said, jumping when he heard a voice behind him.

“Read what letter?”

“Erik!” Sean exclaimed. “Did you bring me back a candy bar?”

Erik just rolled his eyes and held out the chocolate bar. “Of course, I did.”

Sean grabbed it excitedly and motioned in Peter's direction. “Erik, this kid is here and he said he has a letter for you.”

“Well, okay then,” Erik said, sitting down next to him and holding out his hand. “Erik Lehnsherr. I don't believe we've ever met.”

“Peter Maximoff,” he said, shaking Erik's hand. “And we haven't.”

“But you have a letter for me.”

“Yes,” Peter said, handing it over. “It's from my mother.”

“Well, I will read it then. Now?”

Peter nodded. “If you wouldn't mind.”

“Then let's go back to my office,” Erik said, standing up. “Come on.”

Peter got up and followed him, swallowing hard when they ran into someone else on the way. “Hi.”

Charles looked at Peter for a moment before turning to Erik. “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Charles?” Erik asked, taking in the panic in his eyes. “Whatever it is, it's okay.”

Charles sucked in a deep breath. “I ordered the wrong amount of something and it's a big problem and so I'm sorry.”

Erik reached out and put his hands on Charles's upper arms. “Charles, calm down. It's okay. You can just order more of it and we'll tell people we don't have it once we run out.”

“No, you don't understand,” Charles got out. “I ordered too much of it and now we have ten thousand boxes of straws.”

Erik couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. “Ten thousand boxes of straws?”

“It's not funny,” Charles said quietly, but Erik just shook his head. 

“It's hysterical, Charles, but not in a bad way. At least it's something that we always need.”

“But it's a mistake and I can't be making mistakes.”

Erik squeezed Charles's arms. “Charles, listen to me. Was it a mistake? Yes. Is it a mistake I want you to make again? No. But you're allowed to make mistakes, Charles. No one goes through life without making mistakes.”

“But...”

“It's fine, Charles,” Erik said, smiling at him. “I promise.”

Charles forced himself to take a deep breath. “I don't know what to do with them.”

“How about you go to the storeroom and start seeing what can be moved around in there and I will meet you there, okay? I've got something I need to take care of first.”

Charles's eyes flicked back to Peter for a moment before nodding. “Storeroom. Right. I'll be there.”

Erik sighed as Charles walked away before turning back to Peter. “Sorry about that. Let's go in my office.”

Peter just nodded and followed Erik into it, standing there nervously while Erik sat down at his desk. “I hope you don't mind me showing up out of the blue,” he said quietly as Erik opened the envelope. 

“Well, I'm sure whatever this is can be attended to, don't worry about it,” Erik said, beginning to read the letter. He read the letter ten times before he looked up again. “Is this true?”

“It's what she told me,” Peter said. “I mean, if you want to do blood tests to prove it, I'll do that. I don't have any money to do that, but I'll figure out a way to do it.”

Erik set the letter down and ran his hands over his face. “Fuck.”

“I know, this isn't something you want and I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for,” Erik said, picking up the letter again. “I just have only had sex with women like three times. I wasn't exactly anticipating this.”

“I can leave,” Peter offered. “You can just go back to the way things were.”

“I think it would be impossible for me to just go back to the way things were given that I now know I have a son,” Erik said honestly, studying him for a moment. “But you must understand that this is quite unexpected.”

“I didn't even know if you would be here,” Peter admitted. “My mother just said you worked at Station Thirty, and when I got to the city and asked someone for help getting to Station Thirty, they told me it was now this place, and I was sure that meant that you wouldn't be here but the girl at the door last night said that you were and I've been terrified about coming back ever since.”

“Oh, Peter, don't be terrified,” Erik said, standing up and walking over to him. “This is going to take some getting used to, I won't lie, but I will, I promise.”

“Really?” Peter asked, his voice small.

“Yes, really,” Erik said, taking a deep breath. “So, when are you headed back to D.C.? Tonight?”

Peter shook his head. “I'm not allowed to go home.”

Erik's eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“When I told my mother I wanted to seek you out, she told me that if I did I couldn't come back. I told her that I was going to do it anyway, and she just wrote me the letter and told me to pack my bags.”

Erik sighed heavily. “Marya, honestly.”

“You remember her?”

“Of course, I do, honey. We were roommates.” Erik shook his head. “Where are you staying then?”

“I got a hotel room, but that was really expensive and I can't stay there. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”

Erik smiled at him. “How about you go back into the restaurant and find a table, okay? I'm going to help Charles in the storeroom for a few minutes, and then I'll come out there and we can have an early dinner and talk about what to do next.”

Peter looked up at him. “You're not going to just kick me out?”

“I'm never going to kick you out,” Erik said softly. “I'm not in the business of kicking people out. You'll come to understand.”

“I'm sorry, Erik. I know you didn't want this.”

“Stop apologizing. None of this is your fault.” Erik ran his hands over his face again and looked at the clock. “I really need to go help Charles.”

Peter stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

They walked out the door and Erik stopped them in the hallway. “Peter, I really do mean this. I'm glad you're here. If I have a problem with anyone over this, it's with Marya for not telling me about this. Not with you.”

Peter forced himself to take a breath. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Erik said, smiling at him. “I will be out there as soon as I can be, okay? Order anything you want in the meantime. Don't worry about paying for it. Do me a favor though? Don't tell anyone you're my kid. That's something that's going to require explanations, and I don't want you to have to do that.”

“Okay.”

“Then I'll see you out there.”

Peter nodded and walked back into the restaurant, and Erik took a moment before heading in the direction of the storeroom.

He had a son.

Holy fuck.


	17. Chapter 17

Bobby was just about to start cooking dinner when he heard a knock at the door. Sighing, he glanced around the kitchen and wondered where he was going to put whatever it was John had sent to try and apologize this time before heading towards the door and pulling it open.

“I hope you realize that I had to cash in every last vacation day and sick day I get for the next year to get over here and make you two fix things,” Doug said, brushing past Bobby and walking into the apartment. “And don't even think of complaining about Johnny calling me because he didn't. I made this decision all on my own after talking to Piotr.”

Bobby shook his head and shut the door, watching as Doug set his suitcase down next to the sofa. “Doug, I appreciate your intentions but...”

“But nothing,” Doug said, glancing around until he spotted Bobby's jacket, tossing it to him. “I think you're being a fucking hypocrite and we're going to have a little chat about it. But over dinner if you don't mind because I'm fucking starving. The food on the plane was terrible.”

Bobby sighed and pulled on his jacket, walking towards the kitchen to grab his keys. “I'm being a hypocrite? And how exactly am I being a hypocrite?”

“Yes, you're being a fucking hypocrite and a whiny little bitch too, and you know exactly why you're being one,” Doug said, opening the apartment door and holding it for Bobby to walk through. “And all I would have to say to prove that is two words and you know exactly what those two words are.”

Bobby paused in the hallway, making sure that the apartment was locked before they walked to the elevator. “I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.”

“Of course, you don't,” Doug said, shaking his head. “Which is exactly why I've flown whatever the fucking distance between LA and here is to remind you.”

Bobby sighed as they waited for the elevator, reaching out to wrap an arm around Doug's waist. “I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

“He's my best friend, Bobby,” Doug said, wrapping an arm around Bobby's shoulders and leading him into the elevator. “And over the years you've become one of my best friends too. A consequence of that is me knowing things that I probably shouldn't, and me having to put you two in your proper places when you start acting like such complete assholes. But whatever, we'll get to that all of that over dinner. Is that place we went to last time I was here still around?”

Bobby sighed and pressed the button of the ground floor. “Yeah, it is. And I really do hate you. If you hadn't said anything, you wouldn't have ruined my life.”

“Nothing has ruined your life,” Doug pointed out. “If he was still fucking Piotr, that would ruin your life. A few fucks back then that meant nothing are not going to ruin your life.”

“So I suppose you know all about this then? Because I know absolutely nothing beyond him fucking Piotr after he met me.”

Doug just rolled his eyes. “Johnny was a motherfucking bastard when he met you. You changed everything. You should not be surprised that he was fucking around right after you met. But you got under his skin, and he slowly decided that he didn't want anything but you, and from the moment you two decided to take this seriously, he's been completely faithful to you. I believe him when he says that.”

Bobby sighed. “I'm glad you do.”

Doug just gave him a look. “You think he's fucking around on you now?”

“I would be lying if I said that thought hasn't crossed my mind a lot ever since Piotr came clean,” Bobby admitted. “He's always off at these parties and he comes home so late, and I know he only smells like the club but...my mind is reeling and it's all your fault.”

Doug shook his head. “You two really have gotten fucked up, haven't you?”

“Once he got the message that I didn't want to talk to him, we've barely said two words to each other.”

“Oh, Bobby,” Doug sighed. “See, this is why I'm here. I don't want you two to do something stupid.”

“We're not going to do something stupid,” Bobby protested. “I have a legitimate reason for this.”

“And as I said, you're being a hypocrite.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you really are,” Doug said as the elevator slowed. “Do you remember how to get there? Or do we need to pull up directions on the phone?”

“I remember,” Bobby said as they walked out of the elevator. “It's one of Johnny's favorites.”

“Excellent,” Doug said, heading for the door. “We'll all have to go after you two straighten this the fuck out.”

“You're entirely too confident about that.”

“No, I'm not. You two are fucking fixing this before I go home. I don't care how long it takes.”

Bobby shook his head as they left the building. “Whatever.”

**********

Sean pushed open the door and strode into the club, beaming. “Jubes! I cooked a motherfucking hamburger and guess what? It was actually edible this time!”

Jubilee burst out laughing and reached for a bottle of rum. “Well, I think that calls for a celebratory drink then!”

“Totally, honey. Erik even said he'd come down and have one,” Sean said, ducking under the bar and squealing when he saw her feet. “Oh my God, you bought yourself some Jimmy Choos!”

Jubilee smiled and set the bottle down, reaching under the bar and grabbing the box she'd stashed there. “These were totally supposed to be a birthday present from me and Theresa, but we can't keep them from you until December. She's super sad she won't be here to see your reaction, but she's just so sick.”

Sean screamed and grabbed the box from Jubilee's hands, jumping up and down in excitement. “You didn't! You motherfucking didn't!”

“We totally did, sweetie,” Jubilee said, smiling. 

Sean set the box down on the bar and stared at it for a moment. “I can't fucking believe this! Okay, I need a minute to compose myself.”

“Compose yourself after you've seen them!” Jubilee exclaimed, smacking him on the arm. “Open the fucking box!”

Sean pulled the top off the box delicately and set it to the side, slowly pulling back the paper to reveal the shoes. “Ah, they're so sparkly!”

“Which is exactly why we thought you'd like them.,” Jubilee said, yelping when Sean grabbed her and pulled her into a big kiss.

“I motherfucking love you guys!” Sean exclaimed, grabbing the box and sitting down on the floor, pulling off the heels he was wearing and putting on his new ones. “Oh, these are so fucking fierce!”

Jubilee grinned and helped Sean up, laughing when he spun around in a circle. “So, they fit right and everything?”

“They're fucking perfect!” Sean grabbed Jubilee and kissed him again. “Oh, I've got to go show Emma! Save me that drink. I'll be back in a few!”

**********

“Charles, you're incredibly jumpy today,” Emma pointed out. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” Charles said too quickly. “I just am ready to get in the club and get drunk.”

Emma looked across the room at where Moira was at a table. “I hear you. I definitely need to be drunk right.”

“Can I ask who she is or is that too personal?” Charles inquired. “Because you don't have to answer that.”

Emma sighed heavily. “She's the reason I moved to New York. She's the reason I've sworn off love.”

“Ah,” Charles murmured. “She's that woman.”

Emma nodded. “To be perfectly honest, I thought I'd never see her again. I certainly never expected her to live up to her end of our deal.”

“You made a deal with her?”

“Yeah. The day I left to come to New York. She gets clean and I'll give her a place to stay when she gets to NYC. She was so fucked up that I thought it would never happen.”

“It's a good thing she got clean though,” Charles pointed out. “I mean, no one should be like me.”

Emma just shook her head. “You could get clean too, you know.”

“That would require leaving here,” Charles said, taking a long sip of his soda. “And I'm never doing that.”

“So, what? You're just going to live in the restaurant for the rest of your life?” Emma laughed. “Honey, I don't think Erik's going to like that.”

“He said I can stay here as long as I want, even forever.”

Emma studied him for a moment. “Erik said that, hm?”

Charles nodded. “He's said it multiple times.”

Emma smiled. “He really likes you.”

“Fuck if I know why he likes me, but yeah, he's a really great guy. Best kind of person I've been around in a very long time. You all are.”

“Charles, I don't know what happened but it was obviously awful. It doesn't define you, though. Just like how my time with her doesn't define me.”

Charles tilted his head to the side. “You still love her, don't you?”

Emma sucked in a sharp breath but before she could answer, Moira walked around the counter and smiled at them. “I think I'm getting the hang of this.”

“You worked as a waitress while we were in high school. This should be easy for you,” Emma said.

“Well, that was like a lifetime ago,” Moira replied. “A whole lot has changed since then.”

“Yeah,” Emma said, walking away. “It has.”

Moira's shoulders slumped. “I was hoping we might get to a point where we could be friends again,” she said softly. “But Emmie wants nothing to do with me. It's very clear.”

Charles let out a small laugh. “Emmie?”

Moira smiled. “Yeah. I used to call her that all the time.”

“I'll have to remember that,” Charles said, glancing towards the door. “Fuck.”

Moira looked over and saw a man there, and when she turned back, Charles was crouching behind the counter. “What are you doing?”

“I can't explain this to you,” Charles said, terror in his voice. “I've just got to get out of here before he sees me.”

“Do you want me to go distract him?” Moira asked. “I have no idea what's going on but I can help with that.”

“That would be great, Moira. Thanks,” Charles said, watching as she walked away.

He waited until he heard her start to speak before slowly creeping his way along the floor to the end of the counter, peeking out before quickly standing and running into the back. He leaned up against the wall as soon as the door closed, chest heaving as the thoughts processed in his mind.

Charles didn't remember the guy's name, just knew that he'd stood on that corner with him for hours. The guy had always been one that wanted to please Cain, one who did everything Cain asked, and he'd sold out guys who had run more than once. If he'd seen Charles, then that only meant one thing.

Cain would know where he was in a matter of hours and then Charles would be dead.

He forced himself to take a deep breath and then ran up the stairs to the apartment. He needed a hit and to lay on the floor, and maybe, just maybe, if he stayed up there forever then he'd get to live.

Maybe.

**********

Bobby finished off his glass of wine and sighed. “So, what are these two words that make me a hypocrite?”

“Oh, quit fucking acting like you don't know what I'm talking about.” Doug set down his fork and looked across the table. “You want to do this now? Usually you wait until just before dessert.”

“I'd rather just get it over with,” Bobby said, glancing at his watch. “And then I'm going to take you to the club and you can see Johnny and the show.”

Doug leaned back in his chair. “Fine. The two words that make you a hypocrite? Does Artie Maddicks ring any bells in that stupid head of yours?”

“I don't see how Artie would make me a hypocrite,” Bobby said, sighing when Doug rolled his eyes. “Doug, it was long before I began my relationship with Johnny.”

“The beginning of it might have been,” Doug said, reaching for his beer. “But the end of it? That most certainly wasn't.”

Bobby shook his head. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I watched you two fuck on my floor,” Doug said. “And that was after you had motherfucking moved in with Johnny.”

“Artie and I did not fuck on your floor,” Bobby said irritably. “You were so fucking drunk that you have no idea what it is you actually saw.”

“And you were so fucking drunk that you apparently have no fucking clue what it was you actually did.” Doug down the rest of his beer and set the empty glass down. “Bobby, you and I both know that I'm right about this so can you quit the fucking innocent act?”

Bobby slumped down in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Johnny knows that Artie and I made out a bit that night.”

“First off, there is a huge difference between making out and fucking on my floor,” Doug said, picking his fork back up. “And second, there's an even bigger difference between you telling your partner that you kissed another guy when you really fucked another guy.”

“That's not the problem!” Bobby exclaimed, throwing his napkin down on the table. “So I fucked Artie that night. It was one motherfucking night! Johnny and Piotr was way more than that.”

Doug sighed. “Look, you know as well as I do that Johnny was a lousy motherfucker when you met him and you've said during many of our conversations that you never expected that he'd be able to stay faithful to you. So why are you so fucking surprised to find out that he didn't?”

“It's not that he didn't,” Bobby said, sighing again. “It's that it was Piotr.”

Doug paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “And why is that such a fucking problem?”

“Because I've always thought Piotr suited Johnny better than I do,” Bobby said quietly. “And finding out that they've been together like that, and now that Piotr is here in town, I just...it's stupid, I know.”

Doug set his fork down and threw his napkin across the table at Bobby. “It's beyond motherfucking stupid, you fucking idiot. Fucking hell, Bobby, if Johnny wanted Piotr, he would have kept fucking him and gotten rid of you!”

“I know,” Bobby mumbled.

“No, apparently you don't,” Doug said, reaching across the table and grabbing Bobby's left hand. “You see that ring Johnny put on your finger?”

Bobby pulled his hand back and groaned. “I motherfucking know, Doug! I told you, I'm being stupid.”

“Stupid and hypocritical and a fucking bitch. And when we get to the club, you better drag him backstage, tell him all about Artie and this stupid fucking jealousy towards Piotr, and motherfucking fix this.”

“I'm not telling him about Artie,” Bobby said.

“You're fucking telling him or I am,” Doug said seriously. “You two need to stop keeping these fucking secrets from each other or you'll really have something to be so fucking worried about. Piotr, Bobby? Really? I can't even begin to figure out why you feel threatened by Piotr of all people! He's a great guy, but come on, he's totally not Johnny's type.”

**********

“Sean, I thought you said that Erik was coming down for a drink,” Jubilee said, tossing a lime towards Kitty and glancing around the club again. “I haven't seen him.”

Sean wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders and looked around, frowning. “He promised me that he was coming down as soon as he was finished upstairs.”

“Well,” Jubilee said, glancing at the clock, “you came down here a good four hours ago, so what on earth could be keeping him so long?”

“I can send him down here,” Emma said, pressing a kiss to the side of Sean's head. “I've got to go back up to the restaurant and get my stuff before I head home.”

“Aw, you're not staying for the party, honey?” Sean said, hugging Emma close. “I figured you'd want to see Sebastian in his outfit.”

Emma laughed. “I already have, honey. Why do you think I went backstage when I came down here?”

Sean giggled and reached for his drink. “So that's why the door was locked earlier!”

Jubilee rolled her eyes. “Emma, if you could send Erik down that would be great. He needs to stop working all the motherfucking time and start enjoying himself every once and a while.”

“I'll send him down,” Emma said, leaning across the bar to give Jubilee a kiss before giving Sean one too. “I'll see you bitches on Monday.”

Emma worked her way through the crowd and headed up to the restaurant, shivering once she got up there. “Why is it so cold up here, Erik? It's motherfucking freezing compared to down in the club!”

She walked behind the counter and bent down to grab her stuff, frowning when she realized that Erik hadn't answered her. “Erik? What did you do, fall asleep at your desk or something?”

When there was still no answer, Emma set her bag down on the counter and walked back to Erik's office, poking her head inside and finding it empty. “Erik!” she called out. “Where the fuck are you?”

A noise from further down the hallway caught Emma's attention and she headed towards the storeroom, figuring that Erik had to be in there. But as she was approaching the storeroom, she noticed the back door was open, realizing where the cold was coming from. Shaking her head, she bypassed the storeroom and walked out into the alley, shrieking when she saw Scott unconscious on the ground, blood pouring out of a gunshot in his shoulder. “Scott!”

Scott lifted his other arm and pointed at the dumpster, Emma's eyes widening when she spotted an arm hanging out of it. “Help Erik,” Scott got out. “Please.”

Emma walked over to the dumpster and threw the lid open, heart jumping into her throat when she saw him. Erik was battered, bruised, and bloody, but his hand crept towards her and lightly grasped her own. Emma started shaking and reached into her pocket with her other hand, cursing when she realized her phone was on the counter. “Fuck, fuck. I'm gonna go get the phone and call for help, okay? I'll be right back, I swear.”

Erik let his hand slip away from Emma's and she ran back into the restaurant, grabbing her phone off the counter and running back outside. She reached back into the dumpster and sighed when she felt Erik's fingers grasp her hand again, using her other to dial emergency services. “Um, hi. I just found my friends beaten up and shot behind where we work and we really need an ambulance. It's at Genosha, on East Thirteenth, just off Second Avenue...”


	18. Chapter 18

The first glance at the flashing lights didn't concern Bobby that much, still too far away from them to be able to tell exactly where they were. But as they got closer to the club, Bobby's attention started to drift away from the conversation and more towards those flashing red and blue lights. Doug noticed his distraction and bumped him with his shoulder, flicking his head in the lights' direction when Bobby looked over at him. “That at the club?”

“That's what I'm wondering,” Bobby said, sighing. “Johnny is going to be so motherfucking angry if the cops have raided the party.”

Doug laughed. “Does that happen often?”

“No, thank God,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “It's a fucking mess whenever they do though.”

“I bet,” Doug said. “All those go-go boys.”

“Sometimes the biggest problem is keeping some of them from trying to hit on the cops,” Bobby said, cutting his laugh off when he realized where the lights were. “Fuck, it is the club.”

Bobby quickened his pace and Doug quickly fell into step beside him, Bobby calling out to Theresa when they got close enough. “Theresa, baby, what's going on?”

Theresa grabbed Bobby and hugged him close, sucking in a deep breath and trying to stop shaking. “Oh God, Bobby.”

Bobby wrapped his arms tight around Theresa, running his hands over her back to try and calm her down as he glanced worriedly at Doug. “Honey, what's happening?”

“I don't know exactly,” Theresa said, shuddering. “I was just running the door when all of the sudden there were all these sirens and cops and they're telling us to get everyone out because it's a crime scene and oh God Bobby something happened to Erik and Scott.”

“Erik and Scott?” Bobby asked, his voice sounding every bit as shaky as he suddenly felt.

“I couldn't get your bag, baby. They aren't letting anyone back inside,” Jubilee said, walking up to them and putting her arm around Theresa's waist. “Fuck, how the fuck did this happen?”

Bobby sighed when he felt Doug's hands on his shoulders, leaning back into him. “What happened to Erik and Scott?”

Jubilee shook slightly, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I'm not exactly sure, but I overheard the cops saying something about Emma finding them.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “Finding them?”

“They rushed them off in an ambulance and Emma is being interrogated by the cops,” Jubilee said, pulling Theresa closer to her when Bobby's hands dropped to his sides. “Beyond that, I have no idea what it is Emma found. I'm not sure anyone but Emma and the cops know that at the moment. Hank showed up about twenty minutes ago so I tried to ask him, but he just told me to get the fuck back outside and shoved me out the door.”

Bobby started to say something but he was cut off by Kitty running towards them. “I got one of the cops to tell me what hospital they took them to! Hank said he's got to stick around here but that we should head over there.”

“Maybe we can get someone to tell us what the fuck is going on,” Jubilee said, glancing over at Kitty. “Are we waiting for anyone else?”

“Johnny's dealing with the go-go boys and Sean said he's taking a detour to an all-night coffee shop to try and sober up a bit first,” Kitty said, wrapping an arm around Theresa's shoulders and looking over at Bobby and Doug. “Also, no one can tell me anything about where Charles is.”

“Charles,” Bobby said, sighing heavily. “He's probably passed out up in the apartment.”

“Well, I'd go check but no one is being let in there,” Kitty said, glancing down at her phone. “I'll find out what trains we need to take to get to the hospital, but let's start walking towards the nearest station. Everyone else is supposed to meet us there.”

“I'll call Hank,” Bobby said, reaching for his phone. “He's got a key to get into the apartment. He can find out if that's where Charles is.”

“Alright,” Jubilee said, pointing to the right. “Nearest station is this way.”

**********

Hank looked up when the door opened to see an officer walking towards him, Peter's elbow firmly grasped by their right hand. “Mr. McCoy, this kid here is quite insistent that he lives here and knows one of the victims.”

Peter's face paled. “Victims?”

“He does live here, yes,” Hank said. “He's Erik's son. Erik lives upstairs in the attic.”

The officer looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before letting go of Peter's elbow. “Fine. But he can only get some of his stuff and then leave. This building needs to be cleared.”

“I'll take care of it,” Hank assured and the officer walked away. “Peter, let's go upstairs, okay?”

Peter just nodded and followed Hank to the stairs. “What happened to Erik?”

“I don't really know how to answer that at the moment,” Hank said, reaching into his pocket as they started up the stairs. “All I know is that I'm praying that Charles is up here because if he's not, we might have a bigger problem on our hands than what we already do.”

Hank unlocked the door and they went into the apartment. “Grab your stuff, Peter,” he murmured. “I'm going to check on Charles.”

Peter nodded and they headed in opposite directions, Hank knocking on the spare room's door before breathing a sigh of relief when he heard Charles call out from inside. He opened the door and walked in, flipping on the lights to see Charles on the floor. “Charles. Thank God. I was starting to think that they'd gotten you too.”

At that, Charles immediately sat up right. “What happened?”

“I'll explain later, okay? Right now you and Peter just need to get to the hospital. I'll have John take you there.”

Charles's heart jumped into his throat. “Where's Erik?”

“Erik is being treated at the hospital,” Hank said carefully. “But we need to get there so we can talk to him, okay? I have to stick around here for a while but you, Peter, and John can go.”

Charles stood shakily. “I can't leave this place, Hank. They'll get me.”

“Charles, I think that when what happened here tonight gets sorted out, you'll realize they already tried to,” Hank said. “But you absolutely have to go. No one can stay here right now. It's a crime scene.”

Charles sucked in a few deep breaths before nodding. “Okay,” he murmured. “Just give me a minute.”

“I'm afraid I can't do that,” Hank said, glancing at his watch. “You guys have got to go now.”

“I've got my stuff,” Peter called out from the living room.

“Come on, Charles. I need you to take care of Peter,” Hank said. “That's what Erik would want.”

“Okay,” Charles murmured. “I'll do that.”

Hank waited until Charles had left the room before following him, and then he guided him and Peter towards the door. “Go outside, okay? I'll tell John to find you there.”

Charles and Peter nodded and they all headed downstairs. Charles started to panic seeing all of the police officers around, and he reached for Peter's hand and practically dragged him out the door. He glanced around and saw even more police officers, but then he spotted Emma standing by herself and pulled Peter in her direction. “Emma!”

Emma looked up and when they were close enough, she threw her arms around Charles and buried her face in his neck. “Oh God, Charles.”

“What happened?” Charles said, refusing to let go of Peter's hand. 

“Yeah, what did happen?” came John's voice, and they all looked to see him approaching them. “It sounds like you're the only one who knows, Emma.”

“Sir, I'm going to need all of you to leave,” came an officer's voice before Emma could say anything, and John just nodded.

“On the train,” Emma murmured. “Come on. Kitty texted me what hospital they took them too.”

“Them?” Peter asked.

“Him and Scott,” Emma said softly. “Now let's go before they arrest us for not leaving.”

John, Emma, and Peter started walking off, and this time it was Peter who had to pull Charles along. 

Charles did not want to leave Genosha. Ever.

But right now he didn't have a choice but to.

**********

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on Hank as he glanced at the calendar that hung on the wall. One year to the day from when they'd decided to rebrand Station Thirty into Genosha. The idea had been to give queers a safe place to go, somewhere they could have fun and party and pick up trade and not have to worry about anything more than whose place they were headed to after the club closed. A place for them to come during the day where no one would look at them like they were freaks just because their hair was pink and they had on a skirt and high heels. One year to the day since the rebranding decision, two years to the day since Erik had bought Station Thirty, and Genosha's doors had never been closed in all that time. There was always someone there, be it up in the restaurant or down in the club, and they'd always welcomed anyone who needed anything inside.

Hank looked around the empty restaurant and sighed heavily, collapsing down into one of the booths. His head was spinning with everything the detectives had told him so far and he had no idea how to react. No signs of forced entry. Nothing had been stolen. They estimated that Erik and Scott had been there for at least an hour before Emma had found them. It could have been anyone. But the thing that got to Hank most of all was the fact that it could have been someone posing as a customer in an attempt to get to Charles.

He could picture the possible scenario perfectly. Erik staying up to close the restaurant while everyone else disappeared down to the club. Someone showing up just before close wanting a cup of coffee and Erik letting them in, always ready to make sure that one last customer got what they wanted.

Hank shook his head and kicked at the table, his eyes closing as he slumped down. No, he wasn't going to think about that. Better to focus on what was happening with Erik and Scott now than trying to imagine how it had happened to begin with. Sighing, he reached for his phone and texted Bobby, letting him know that things were almost wrapped up there and then he'd head for the hospital.

But the one thing he was sure on was the fact that Genosha's doors were going to be closed for a while. At least until the police caught whoever was responsible for doing this. Erik could try to argue that with him all he wanted. It was not an argument that Erik was going to win.

Provided, of course, that Erik would be there to argue with.

Hank really didn't want to think about the alternative.

**********

“I'm sorry, miss, but unless you are a relation of Mr. Summers or Mr. Lehnsherr, I cannot tell you anything,” the nurse said.

Jubilee shook her head. “You don't understand. We are all the family that they have.”

“And once they authorize us to inform you about their condition, we will do so,” the nurse said, sighing when Jubilee tried to protest. “Miss, I understand that you are worried but there are laws about these sorts of things that we just cannot break. Once we have their permission to tell you, you will be told.”

“You can tell me,” came Jean's voice, and Jubilee turned to see her walking up to the nurses' station. “I'm the medical power of attorney for both of them. Here is the paperwork.”

The nurse took the papers from her and looked through it. “This has to get processed through records first, but that should only take a few minutes. I'll be back to speak with you once it has been.”

Jean nodded and Theresa came up behind Jubilee, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Thank you, Jean. We're all so worried.”

“Well, I got here as fast as I could after Hank called me,” Jean said, following them over to the waiting area. “We're lucky that Erik always thinks to prepare for situations like this.”

“Not quite like this,” Bobby said, leaning up against John. “This is terrifying. It could have been any of us. And whoever did this could have been anyone.”

“I know who it was.” Everyone turned and looked at Charles, and Charles just bent down and covered his head with his hands. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“Charles,” Hank said, coming to sit down next to him. “I know that this is incredibly difficult for you, but we are going to need you to tell the police about him.”

“I can't,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I can't.”

“Wait, is this about that guy who put the bounty on your head?” Sean asked. “Because you definitely need to tell someone about that.”

Charles sucked in several ragged breaths as Hank's hand ran up and down his back slowly. “You don't understand. You just don't.”

“I know we don't, Charles,” Hank said softly. “But if you want whoever did this to them to be caught, then you're going to have to tell the police about him. I can't imagine how many times he's done this to people when someone has run on him the way you did.”

“I bet we can get Darwin to do it,” Bobby said. “Because you two have made it very clear that you came from the same situation. I bet he'd be willing to talk.”

“I don't want you all to know,” Charles whispered. “I don't.”

“I know, Charles,” Hank murmured. “But Erik would want you to do this. Can you please do it for him?”

The conversation was interrupted by the nurse calling out Jean's name, and Bobby glanced over at the clock. “I suppose one of us should probably leave and get the restaurant opened up.”

“No, we're closed indefinitely,” Hank said, sighing when everyone turned to look at him. “Don't look at me like that. I know what Erik would want and if I say we're closed, then we're fucking closed.”

Bobby shook his head. “We can't close, Hank. The community...”

“I don't give a fuck about the community right now,” Hank said seriously. “I am sure that most of them mean well, but if it wasn't who Charles thinks it was, then right now there is someone out there that did that to them and I am not opening the doors of that property so that motherfucker can walk in there and do it again to another one of you. No motherfucking way. I'm sorry if none of you understand that, but this is how it's going to have to be.”

“Hank,” Kitty said softly. “I totally understand your reasoning, but we're not going to be closed for that long, right? I'm not trying to be selfish here but rent's due soon and I sort of need my job to pay for that.”

“You'll still get paid. Everyone will,” Hank said. “We won't leave you hanging like that.”

“Hank,” Bobby started to say, stopping when Hank groaned loudly.

“This subject is not up for discussion,” Hank said, turning his attention back to Charles. “Charles, we really need your help here. We need you to tell the police about him.”

“Scott's fine,” Jean said as she walked back up to them. “Gunshot to the shoulder but it went straight through and didn't hit anything massive. They kicked the shit out of him and he got a severe blow to the head, but they don't think the result of that is any more than a pretty bad concussion.”

“Good,” Jubilee said. “And Erik?”

“Two gunshot wounds to the stomach and it sounds like they kicked the shit out of him too. But right now he's in surgery so I can't tell you any more than that,” Jean said, running a hand through her hair. “Scott's going to be moved into a room soon. They'll come tell me when he is, but I'm the only one allowed in at first and then it's going to be one or two at a time, okay? He does not need everyone converging on him at once.”

Everyone nodded and Jean continued. “Charles, if you know who did this to them, then I really need you to tell the police. I know you're afraid of something, and I don't know what it is, but I will do whatever I have to do to help you, okay? As your friend and your lawyer.”

“I can't afford a lawyer,” Charles murmured. “And I'm afraid they'll just put me in jail.”

“Charles, they're not going to put you in jail,” Hank said seriously. “I promise.”

“I don't see how that's possible.”

Jean studied Hank for a moment. “You know what this is about, don't you?”

Hank nodded. “I'm the only one besides Erik that does. Well, and Darwin. Darwin's from the same situation.”

“Charles, can Hank tell me what the situation is?” Jean asked. “If I know what it is, I'll know how to better help you through this.”

“I don't want anyone to know,” Charles mumbled.

“Charles,” Hank said, making Charles look over at him. “I know. And I understand why. But I promise you that no one is going to think any differently about you. Nor will they of Darwin. They'll just be really glad that Erik found you.”

Charles did nothing but stare at him so Hank kept talking. “Erik saved all of us in some way or another. But right now, he's the one who needs our help, and if you know anything about who could have done this to him, then I need you to talk to let me talk to Jean and let her help you. I need you to tell the police about him.”

“Whatever it is, Charles, we won't care,” Sean said. “I promise.”

“You should listen to him, honey,” Emma said, leaning over and grabbing his hand. “We love you, Charles. We need you to help Erik by doing this.”

Charles sat there for a few moments before dropping his head down again. “Only Jean for now.”

Hank breathed a sigh of relief before squeezing Charles's shoulder. “Thank you, Charles.”

Jean nodded towards the hallway and Hank stood and followed her, so Bobby moved over to the seat that Hank vacated and wrapped his arms around Charles. “Whatever it is, baby, it'll be okay.”

Charles could only shake his head. “Nothing's ever okay with him.”


	19. Chapter 19

Jean said a quiet thank you to the nurse before opening the door slowly, walking into the room. The brightest light in the room was the soft glow of the television across the room, and she had decided that the first thing she'd do was turn it off when suddenly the channel changed. Looking over at the bed, she saw Scott looking back at her, and she hadn't realized she'd feel quite so relieved to see those eyes looking into hers again. “Scott.”

“Jean,” he murmured, and she walked over to the bed. “It's so good to see you.”

“It's even better to see you,” Jean said, grabbing the chair and sliding it closer before sitting down. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine.”

Jean just shook her head. “Don't lie to me.”

Scott sighed and reached out with his good arm, and Jean grasped his hand. “Honestly? I'm better now that you're here.”

Jean gave him a soft smile. “I dropped everything once Hank called me.”

“I sort of assumed so since when I got back to the room I was being asked if I wanted to see my girlfriend.”

Jean chuckled. “I certainly didn't tell them that I was that, but I can see how that was the natural assumption. I'm probably going to hear that Erik was told them same thing.”

“How's he doing?” Scott asked. “Or do I want to know?”

“I don't have an answer to that,” Jean said, looking over at the clock. “He's still in surgery.”

“They were...and he...”

“Shh,” Jean soothed. “You don't need to get into any of it now.”

“They wanted Charles. And Erik wouldn't give him up,” Scott said after a moment, leaning back and closing his eyes. “And I'm not trying to say that he should have. But if Erik doesn't make it...”

“Erik's going to make it,” Jean said strongly. “Don't you dare think anything but that.”

“Fine, Erik's going to make it. But I'm going to require some sort of explanation. Erik has taken in a lot of pet projects over the years, Jean. No one has ever come to gun them down before.”

“I know, and you'll get one, but priority number one right now is getting Charles to tell the police first.”

Scott tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes. “You know what's going on.”

“Hank knew and Charles told Hank he could tell me. Trust me, right now it's far more important to get that discussion between Charles and a couple of detectives happening than it is for you to find out why what happened did. Time is potentially critical and Charles isn't exactly one hundred percent cooperating with us.”

Scott nodded and yawned. “He thinks he knows who did this?”

“He's convinced that he does, and after what Hank told me, I'm pretty convinced too,” Jean said, squeezing his hand when Scott's eyes slipped shut. “You get some rest, okay? I'm going to go tell everyone that I've seen you and to check on Erik. I'm sure that you'll have a line of visitors once you wake back up.”

Scott nodded without opening his eyes. “I want to know about Erik as soon as you do. And Emma first, please. I owe her a thank you.”

“I'll tell you as soon as you know, and Emma will be your first visitor, I promise,” Jean said, standing up and brushing a kiss along his forehead. “Get some sleep. I'll be back soon.”

Jean walked out of the room and closed the door, leaning up against it. She took several deep breaths to compose herself before heading in the direction of the elevator. But when she finally got back to her sister's after all of this was under more control, she was going to think about what it was she really felt towards Scott because if this whole thing had done anything, it had made her realize that it was a lot different than what she'd previously thought.

**********

Bobby's eyes opened just in time to see Sebastian sit down next to Charles, and really, that was the last thing that anyone needed right now. “Sebastian, don't you dare.”

“Don't I dare what?” Sebastian said, flicking his scarf around before putting a hand on Charles's knee. “How are you doing, darling? You look atrocious.”

“Terrible,” Charles got out, and he let Sebastian fold him into his arms. “Why is this happening?”

“It's happening because some lousy motherfuckers decided to rob the place,” Sebastian said simply, sighing when he saw Bobby shaking his head. “What? It's the truth.”

“No,” Charles murmured into his shoulder. “It's not.”

Sebastian frowned. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“No,” Charles said, shaking his head violently. “No.”

“Charles,” Emma said, sitting down on his other side and giving Sebastian a small smile. “It's okay, baby. He's not going to think any different of you either.”

Charles started crying then, and Sebastian's arms tightened around him while he just gave Emma a look. Emma shook her head and looked over at Sean. “Hey, Sean? How about you come comfort Charles and I'll go get Seb caught up on what's going on? I think that would make things a lot better for everyone.”

“Sure, Emma,” Sean said, sitting down when Emma stood up and carefully extracting Charles from Sebastian's embrace and pulling him into his own. “It's okay, Charles. It's all going to be okay.”

Sebastian looked up at Emma, and she only nodded in the direction of the hallway, so he stood and followed her out of the room. “What the fuck is happening?”

“I don't know all the details yet, honey, so I'll tell you what I do know, okay?” Emma said, walking over to the elevator and calling it. “But in the cafeteria. I need some coffee.”

“You and me both, sweetie,” Sebastian said, leaning up against her. “It's late.”

“It's six a.m., Seb. You normally haven't even gone to bed yet.”

“I normally haven't had a threesome instead of working either.”

Emma shoved him away from her. “Excuse me?”

“Janos and Azazel kept going on about how we needed to do something, and I finally just kissed Janos to shut him up, and it happened,” Sebastian said, shrugging. “It's fine.”

“Erik's here fighting for his fucking life and you're off somewhere fucking,” Emma said, stepping into the elevator when the doors opened. “I should have known that's where you were.”

“Well, I would have come here with John but I was told in no uncertain terms that I wasn't welcome,” Sebastian said as he followed her. “Where the fuck is John, by the way? I need to tell him to fuck off again.”

“Oh honey, you've got to understand why it is you would not be considered someone who could sit quietly in a hospital waiting room, right? Because you can barely sit quietly anywhere.” Emma pushed the button for the right floor and leaned back against the wall. “And John took Peter, Kitty, Jubes, and Theresa somewhere to get breakfast that wasn't hospital food. The girls really needed to get out of here for a while and Peter needed the distraction.”

“I am still trying to figure out how Peter is possible,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “I cannot picture Erik ever fucking a woman.”

“Well, I'd rather picture Erik fucking a woman than the image that's in my mind right now.”

Sebastian gave her a funny look. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Do you have any concept of what has gone on or are you just acting like a lousy motherfucker for some incredibly terrible reason?”

That's when Sebastian noticed that there were tears rolling down her cheeks, so he just pulled her into his arms. “Emma, tell me what's going on because apparently I have no idea what's really happened.”

Emma nodded. “In the cafeteria over coffee. I need to be put back together by the time we go up there again.”

“Of course, sweetie, but I'm worried now.”

Emma let out a small laugh. “You should have been worried this entire time, bastard.”

“Well, we'll make me worried then,” Sebastian said as the elevator slowed. “But Charles looked terrible.”

“And there's a very good reason for that, even if I don't know much about it right now,” Emma said, pulling back and wiping at her eyes as the doors opened. “Come on. I'll tell you what I know.”

**********

Jean sighed with relief as what the doctor was saying hit her, and she allowed herself a genuine smile. She thanked him and ran her hands over her face before heading in the direction of the waiting room. Hardly anyone was in it when she got there, only Bobby, Sean, and Charles, but she wasn't about to keep this news until everyone was back. “Erik's out of surgery,” she said, and their eyes all went to her. “He's got a long recovery ahead of him, but he's out of the danger zone.”

“Oh thank God,” Bobby said, reaching for his phone. “I'll call Johnny and he can tell everyone with him.”

“Emma and Sebastian are in the cafeteria, I think,” Sean said, looking up when Hank came into the room. “I'll go tell them, okay?”

“Thanks, Sean,” Hank murmured before turning to Jean. “Good news?”

“Erik's out of surgery. Long recovery coming but he's out of the danger zone.”

Hank breathed a sigh of relief. “That's great to hear. I need to go make some calls. Vanessa's incredibly worried and someone has to tell Raven what's happened.”

“That doesn't need to be you, Hank,” Bobby said.

“No, it does,” Hank said. “Excuse me.”

Bobby stood up and cast a worried look over at Charles before motioning to Jean. “I'm going to go outside and get a little fresh air. I'll be back.”

Jean nodded and she walked over to Charles, sitting down next to him and giving him a comforting smile. “How are you doing?”

“I don't really know how to answer that,” Charles said honestly. “Some combination of terrible, awful, horrendous, and motherfucking scared to death.”

“Have you thought about what we talked about at all?”

“Jean, I don't know if I can do this.”

“Charles, if he is responsible for this, then the fact that he didn't get you is just going to make him come back and try again,” Jean said seriously. “It is imperative that you do this.”

“I know,” Charles murmured. “I really do know.”

“There's someone that I know really well,” Jean started. “Well, she's my best friend, really. Ororo and I have known each other since high school. She isn't a detective, but I know the moment I mention this to the detectives she'll be called in on it. She's the psychologist they go to for sex crimes of that magnitude in this area.”

Charles swallowed hard. “They'll just arrest me.”

“There's no reason to arrest you,” Jean said seriously. “You were doing all of it against your will.”

“I don't have a will,” Charles mumbled. “Haven't in so long.”

“Well, this is a chance for you to get it back.” When Charles looked up at her, she smiled. “I can't even begin to imagine how difficult this is for you. I don't even want to try because I know that it'll come nowhere close. But I need you to do this, Charles. Erik does. So does Darwin. If someone spotted him there too, then they'll be on the lookout for him as well.”

Charles's head shot up at the mention of Darwin's name. “He has no idea the restaurant is closed. He's got first shift. If he goes there and they're waiting for us...”

“He knows, Charles,” came Hank's voice, and they looked up to see him walk back into the room. “I called him last night. He and Alex are staying inside that hotel room until I tell him that it's safe for them to come out.”

Charles breathed a sigh of relief. “I don't want anything to happen to them. They deserve a better life.”

“You say that as though you don't,” Hank said, sitting down on Charles's other side. “I think that everyone will disagree with you on that.”

“Charles,” Jean asked carefully. “Does Hank know what your family situation is?”

Hank gave Jean a confused looked, but Charles sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “No, but if I do this, it's going to be more than just the people at the restaurant who find out about this.”

“I can only imagine how terrifying that is for you, but I need you to do this anyway.”

“Charles,” Hank murmured. “Erik needs you to do this. Whatever this family situation is, I need you to remember that you have a new family now. You have all of us. Whatever all of this is about, it's not going to change a thing.”

“Erik always tells me that,” Charles said after a moment. “He always says that my last name doesn't matter. My inheritance doesn't matter. If I want to I can stay forever.”

Jean watched Hank as realization slowly dawned on him. “You're Sharon Xavier's son.”

Charles could only nod, so Jean picked up the conversation. “I know that this becoming public knowledge seems like the end of the world, but I promise you that it isn't. And even if things do turn out as bad as you think they might, we're all still going to be there for you. I can promise you that.”

“Everyone should hate me,” Charles said, dropping his head down. “I'm the reason that this happened.”

“No one hates you for this, honey,” Hank said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Guaranteed. Not even Erik and Scott.”

“I don't know how I can ever face Erik again. He's done all of this for me and the only thing I've ever done is get him nearly killed.”

“Charles, stop thinking like that. You've done plenty for him. Plenty for all of us,” Jean said. “And Erik would be very disappointed if he heard you talking like that. He was just telling me the other day about the progress you've made.”

“Doesn't feel like I've made any.”

“It might not, but I know you'll make a whole lot more if you get that motherfucker arrested,” Hank said seriously. “I cannot even imagine how much better you would feel. I know that Darwin and Alex feel that way.”

Charles looked over at him. “What?”

“I didn't get my phone calls made because Darwin called me first,” Hank explained. “He said that the two of them have talked it over and that they're willing to talk to the police so that he can be arrested. But he also said that they would feel a lot better about doing this if you did it too.”

Charles swallowed hard. “Really?”

“Hank has the name of the detective working the case,” Jean said. “I can call them right now and tell them what I know. I know enough to guarantee that Ororo is put on the case immediately. She is trained to help you and Darwin and Alex out, and I know that she'll be able to help all three of you. She'll also be able to get the truth out of you in a way that won't set you back, and then the detectives will use that truth to arrest this guy.”

Charles sucked in several deep breaths. “I...”

Jean reached out and took one of Charles's hands. “I know that you've only been trusting Erik will all of this, but right now I need you to trust me and Hank. We know that you can do this, Charles. Erik and Scott need you to do this.”

Charles sat there for several moments before nodding. “I'll talk. But only to your friend. I don't want to be face to face with an officer unless I absolutely have to be.”

“Then I'll call both Ororo and the detective,” Jean said, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Charles. This is going to mean a lot to everyone, but especially to Erik.”

Charles shuddered. “I don't know about that.”

“Well, I do, and I agree with Jean,” Hank said, nodding when she stood up and said she'd go find a place to call. “Charles, you're doing a very good thing here. Not just for Erik and Scott, but for yourself, Darwin, and Alex, and every other person he's got under his control.”

“I need to be drunk. And I need a hit really, really badly,” Charles mumbled. “But there's none with me.”

Hank sighed heavily. “Well, I can't help you with either of those things, but we could go for a walk around the hospital. Darwin said that walking off the shakes helps him with withdrawal.” 

Charles stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Okay. But no more talking about this.”

“That's fine, Charles,” Hank said, standing up. “Shall we? Maybe we'll head to the cafeteria and get something to eat. You probably haven't eaten in hours.”

Charles took a deep breath before standing as well. “Okay.”


	20. Chapter 20

Emma walked into the apartment and tossed her keys towards the table, turning towards her bedroom until she realized she hadn't heard the keys hit anything. Spinning around, she walked towards the kitchen and blinked. “What the fuck is going on?”

Moira looked up and motioned at the bowl in front of her. “Um, I'm eating lunch?”

There was another laugh and Emma turned to see Angel Salvadore holding up her keys. “Hello, darling.”

Emma groaned and walked over to the table, pulling out one of the chairs and collapsing down into it. “Great. This is the last thing I need right now.”

“What?” Angel said, smiling at her. “I thought you'd be glad to see me.”

“It's okay, Emmie,” Moira said. “I told you that it was okay if you had someone. I'll find somewhere else to stay.”

“Oh, Mors, that won't be necessary,” Angel said, shaking her head. “You can stay here for as long as you want.”

Emma glared across the table at Moira. “Mors?”

“Hey, it's not my fault that your girlfriend is friendly,” Moira said defensively. “I introduced myself as Moira and she shortened it all on her own.”

“She was telling me about how you're helping her out,” Angel said, reaching out to play with Emma's hair. “And I was telling her about a friend back home who went through the same sort of thing.”

Emma turned her glare to Angel. “Why the fuck are you here? And why does she think you're my girlfriend?”

Angel sighed. “Emma, you know I am.”

“I know we had a fling over a year ago that ended in really bad circumstances and that I haven't see your ass in at least eight months,” Emma said, standing up. “And this is really the last thing I need right now, Angel. My boss got fucking shot last night, my place of work is closed indefinitely, and I want you to get the fuck out and not come back.”

Emma stumbled out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hall, drawing a disappointed sigh out of Angel. “She's always been so sensitive about this. Always hung up on some girl from back home. I honestly thought she'd be over it by now.”

Moira swallowed hard. “Hung up on some girl back home?”

Angel smiled at her. “Mors, honey, it's okay. You can admit that it's you.”

“I don't believe that,” Moira said, standing and taking her bowl to the sink. “She can't possibly still love me. I destroyed her.”

“No, sweetheart, I assure you that you didn't,” Angel said, setting the keys on the table. “Ems is exhausted right now, no doubt, so I will come back at a better time. And don't worry about being here. I have no problems with you being in her life.”

“She said you're not her girlfriend,” Moira murmured, “so I don't think you get to decide things like that.”

“I can decide whatever I want. And she's lying.”

“She hasn't seen you in eight months.”

Angel shrugged. “I don't believe in constant contact. Doesn't mean she still isn't my girlfriend.”

Moira turned to look at her but just saw Angel's back as she walked towards the door. “I'll be sure to tell her that then.”

“You do that, Mors. I'll be back soon,” Angel called out as she walked out of the door.

Moira shook her head before heading to the door, quickly locking it and doing up the chain. She didn't know what to do since she couldn't go to work, but she could get the latest news about what has happening from Emma. She went to Emma's room and knocked on the door, and when she heard a curt “Go away,” she shook her head and opened the door anyway.

Emma was curled up on the bed, stripped down to just her lingerie. Moira stood there for a moment and took in her beauty before clearing her throat. “Emmie?”

“I told you not to fucking call me that,” Emma mumbled. “And get the fuck out.”

“I just wanted to know how Erik and Scott are doing,” Moira said softly. “You promised me an update when you got home when you called to tell me not to go to work.”

Emma laid there for a moment before sighing. “I did, didn't I? Fuck.”

Moira walked further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently run a hand down Emma's calf. “Are they doing okay?”

“Scott's fine. Well, he's got to stay in the hospital for a couple of days so they can monitor how he's healing from the surgery they did on his shoulder, but he'll be fine. Had a long conversation with him about what I did and he was very appreciative.”

“That's great,” Moira murmured. “And Erik?”

Emma sucked in a sharp breath. “He's out of the danger zone, according to the doctors, but he's still not awake. They're saying that's because of all the drugs they pumped into him, but everyone's going to feel a lot better once Jean gets to talk to him. She's the only one allowed in at the moment.”

“Why is that?”

“She is his emergency contact,” Emma explained. “Erik's mother died in a car accident a couple of years ago, and he suddenly got terrified that something could happen to him or any of his friends and no one would be able to find out anything. So since Jean is a lawyer, he went to her and she did all this legal stuff that made her everyone's emergency contact. Medical power of attorney, I think is the right term. Anyway, basically, Jean's able to make all the medical decisions regarding Erik and his care, and she's the one who's getting the updates and passing them on to all of us.”

“Well, it's good that he had the foresight to do that. “And I'm really glad to hear that he's doing okay.”

“I wouldn't say okay, but certainly a lot better than he was when I found him.”

Moira frowned. “You found him?”

“In the alley. Scott on the ground and Erik in the dumpster,” Emma said before a sob escaped her. “Fuck.”

Moira listened to her cry for a moment before making a decision. She stood and stripped her clothes off before crawling onto the bed and curling herself along Emma's back. “Shh, Emmie, it's okay.”

Emma went to tell her to fuck off but found herself crying harder, and Moira just pulled her closer and ran a comforting hand down her arm. Emma wanted to deny that feeling Moira that close to her again made her feel all warm inside like it used to, but she found she couldn't. No matter how much she didn't want to admit it, she still loved Moira just as much as she used to. But things had gotten entirely too fucked up between them and they could never regain what they had before.

Emma didn't want to regain what they'd had before. It had hurt entirely too much.

But she didn't push Moira away, instead lying there in her arms and finally letting everything out. She needed to and as much as she didn't want to do it in front of anyone, Moira was the only one she'd let see it. 

Emma didn't want to think about what that meant.

**********

“Sebastian, go home and get some sleep,” Bobby said, kicking at Sebastian's feet lightly. 

“No,” Sebastian said sleepily. “I'm not leaving here without Charles.”

Bobby sighed and leaned forward, smacking Sebastian on the top of his head. “Go home and get some motherfucking sleep, Sebastian.”

“Why don't you go home and get some motherfucking sleep, you stupid bitch?” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “John, can't you make your wife shut up and leave me alone?”

John walked up behind Bobby and wrapped his arm around Bobby's waist, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Baby, if he wants to stay here and wait for Charles, then let him.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“You are not going to sleep in a hospital waiting room,” Bobby said.

Sebastian opened one eye and glanced over at them. “Are you still here?”

“You are so lucky that we're in the middle of a hospital right now,” Bobby said, kicking at Sebastian's feet but harder this time. “So fucking lucky.”

“Calm down, baby,” John said, pulling Bobby away from Sebastian and walking towards where Doug was waiting for them. “Let's just go home and get some sleep, and if Sebastian hasn't gone home by the time we come back, then we'll make him go home, okay?”

“Why don't you ever stand up for me when it comes to him?” Bobby asked, pulling away from John and leaning into Doug. “You always take his side in things.”

“He takes a delicate type of patience and you know that,” John sighed as they headed towards the elevator. “And he's an adult, baby. He's allowed to make his own decisions.”

“But you are his boss and you can tell him what to do,” Bobby said as they entered the elevator. 

“Maybe. But I need him happy or else he's going to find work elsewhere, and it's important to keep him in this job. The parties make so much more money when Sebastian stars in them and you know it.”

Bobby didn't say anything until they were walking outside, and he groaned when the bright sunlight hit his eyes. “Fuck, I need my sunglasses.”

“It's just a short walk to the station, baby,” John said, looking over at Doug. “And maybe once we're on the train, someone can tell me why they aren't in Los Angeles.”

“Because you two are fucking morons?” Doug said, shaking his head. “Honestly, how the fuck do you two let things get so fucked up between you?”

“I don't want to talk about this now,” Bobby said. “We can straighten things out once Scott is home and Erik is awake and things get back to as normal as they can get.”

“Fuck no,” Doug said. “I didn't fly thousands of fucking miles for you to come up with excuses. You two need to straighten this the fuck out now before it gets worse.”

John sighed. “He's right, baby.”

“Fine,” Bobby mumbled, pushing away from them and bounding down the stairs to the station. “But not until we've had some sleep because you never listen to me when you're sleep deprived.”

“I can agree to that,” John called out, shaking his head when Bobby didn't respond. “Thanks a fucking lot for all of this, you fucking idiot. I told you about me and Piotr because I thought you could keep a fucking secret.”

“I can keep a fucking secret, thank you very much. I haven't ever told Bobby half the shit you used to get up to that I know you haven't told him about,” Doug said defensively. “But you need to tell him all of it. Absolutely all of it. There is no way you two can have these secrets from each other.”

“He doesn't need to know about guys that I fucked before I met him that he'll never meet,” John said firmly. “That is not something I'm ever doing.”

Doug just rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you're fucking telling him the truth about you and Piotr.”

John groaned. “I never should have fucking told you that either.”

“Johnny, this is for the best. Trust me on that.”

“Whatever,” John said, looking around for Bobby when they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Let's find him and get home.”

**********

Charles quietly shut the door and walked over to Scott's bedside, biting his lip when he saw Scott staring back at him. 

“I was wondering where you were,” Scott said softly, reaching towards Charles when he sat down. “Jean told me you were here.”

“Kind of had to be,” Charles murmured, gently wrapping his hand around Scott's. “They kicked everyone out of the building.”

“It's good that you left there,” Scott said softly, shifting slightly and grimacing. “Please tell me that some of the others have gone home.”

“Bobby and John left a few minutes ago. The girls all went home about an hour ago,” Charles said, unable to keep the shakiness out of his voice. “Sebastian wants me to go home with him since I have nowhere to go, but I don't know about that.”

“Tell Sebastian to fuck off,” Scott said. “And I'm glad that some of the others went to get some sleep. I'm sure that Hank and Jean can figure out a place for you and Peter to go.”

“Peter went with Kitty,” Charles mumbled.

“Well, that's good. He's probably scared to death. Just found his father and now this.”

“I'm sorry,” Charles blurted out. “I'm so, so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Charles,” Scott said, squeezing his hand. “This is not your fault.”

“It wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me, and so I'm sorry. I don't know how I can ever make up for this. I don't know how everyone doesn't hate me for this.”

“I'm not going to hate you over this and no one else should either,” Scott said, smiling at him. “I'm just going to need some sort of explanation over what happened. I don't know why this happened.”

Charles swallowed hard. “Everyone is going to find out,” he whispered. “And I don't want anyone to know.”

Scott squeezed his hand again. “Whatever it is, Charles, I'm not going to think any differently about you.”

“You don't know that.”

“So long as you're not a murderer, Charles, I don't see any way that I'd think differently about you.”

Charles took a deep breath. “His name is Cain. Guarantee you he's the one with the gun. He controlled absolutely everything about my life. 'Stand on that corner until I tell you otherwise.' 'Take these drugs because they'll make it all better.' 'The money you make isn't yours, it's mine, but I'll take care of you.' He controlled everything.”

“Oh, Charles,” Scott breathed out once he realized what Charles was talking about. 

“I got kicked out a trick's car in an area of town that was not our usual, and I was leaning up against a lamppost in the rain when Erik found me. Hired me for the night because I wouldn't let him give me help otherwise. Offered me a job and a place to stay if I ever wanted out of the life I was living. I ran from Cain about a week after that because Erik had given me a fuck ton of money but I didn't think I could ever face Erik again. Ended up outside of Genosha by chance when I'd run out of money and he found me again.”

“I'm so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“I deserved it. I still deserve it.”

“You do not,” Scott said firmly. “And I know Erik would be very disappointed to hear you say that.”

“He's done so much for me and all I've done in return is nearly get him killed,” Charles murmured. “Cain always tracks down those who run on him and shoots them. He puts bounties on their heads to up the incentive to find them. One of the guys that I used to stand on the corner with walked into the restaurant yesterday and he must have seen me and turned me in. Cain according to Darwin, Cain put a two hundred thousand dollar bounty on my head.”

“That's a lot of fucking money,” Scott said, surprised.

“I was his moneymaker. Always got picked up, almost always for a fuck instead of just a blow, sometimes even for the entire night. Never came back empty handed after standing on that corner. Ever.”

Scott squeezed his hand again. “I am so glad that Erik found you. I'm so glad that he got you away from that.”

“Me too,” Charles whispered. “And I can never repay him for this. I can never repay you for this either.”

“Charles, you don't have to repay either of us for this. I promise.”

“It's so good to see you, Scott,” Charles said, smiling at him. “And I'm going to try to repay you anyway.”

“You want to repay me? Talk to the police. Tell them everything. Get that lousy motherfucker in jail. And I'm not just saying that because of what he did to me and Erik. I'm saying that because of what he did to you. I think you probably had a pretty good life before he got a hold of you, and I'm determined to make sure you have a pretty good life from here on out.”

“Jean is going to get something set up so I can tell someone what happened,” Charles said softly. “Darwin and Alex too. I'm terrified because it's all going to become public now and I don't know what to do about it.”

“Public?”

Charles swallowed hard. “My last name is Xavier.”

Scott stared at him in shock. “What?”

“I'll tell you some other time, okay? It was hard enough to tell you this.”

Scott nodded. “I will wait then because I imagine that's quite the story.”

“Yeah, it is,” Charles murmured. “It's so, so good to see you. I really mean that.”

“Not much to see,” Scott said. “Though the nurse did tell me that I look like I've got some lovely brown and purple eye shadow on after seeing Sean flounce in here. I think she thought he was my boyfriend.”

Charles laughed and pulled back to get a good look at him. “It's nothing a good concealer won't be able to cover, I think. Sean's been teaching me all about things like that.”

“Of course, he has,” Scott said, shaking his head. “Well, someone is going to have to help me put it on then. And help me cover up this monstrosity once they let me take off the sling.”

Charles looked over to see the cast that covered Scott's forearm. “It's not a monstrosity, it's a cast. And it's purple! Sean probably went crazy when he saw that.”

Scott chuckled. “He said he was going to smuggle in a pen to start decorating it, so if you find out he has one, take it from him. I remember when Bobby broke his ankle, and I remember all the little caricatures of penises that ended up all over his cast, and I don't want that.”

Charles nodded. “I'll be sure to take it from him then because I know that he's going to have one when he comes back.”

“Thank you,” Scott said, closing his eyes. “You need to get out of here and get some sleep, Charles. Tell Hank to let you into my apartment. You can stay there.”

“I don't want to do that,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I'm too afraid of going back out there and him finding me. I feel somewhat safe here.”

“Charles,” Scott murmured. “Go somewhere and get some sleep. Go with Sebastian if you want. I think he's intelligent enough to know that you won't be doing it so you can have sex. And if he's not, knee him in the balls and just go to sleep.”

Charles swallowed hard, taking a deep breath to compose himself. “Okay, I'll do that. Do you want another visitor or to sleep for a while?”

“Sleep for a while,” Scott said. “And then I want an update from Jean about Erik.”

“Okay,” Charles said, squeezing Scott's hand before letting go. “I'll let her know that.”

“Thank you, baby,” Scott said, and within moments he was asleep again.

Charles walked out of the room, making sure to shut the door quietly. He slowly made his way in the direction of the waiting room, making a decision. He was going to relay Scott's message to Jean and Hank, and then he was going to go home with Sebastian. And once he was at Sebastian's, he was going to make another decision.

Maybe what he needed right now was something only Sebastian was willing to give him.


	21. Chapter 21

“So, this is my humble abode,” Sebastian said, closing the door behind them and locking it. “It's not much, I know, but you try finding a supremely fabulous place to live on my salary.”

“Salary?” Charles asked, looking around. 

“Yeah, honey, salary. John pays me a certain amount every year for a salary, and then I get a small cut of the profits for every show I'm in,” Sebastian said, taking off his scarf and tossing it onto a chair. “If you really want details, I'm sure John would explain it to you.”

“No, that's alright,” Charles said, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “Sebastian, can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything, darling,” Sebastian said, tossing his jacket to the side and heading towards the kitchen. “Hungry? I can make us something.”

“What?”

“I'm a better cook than Sean, darling. I assure you of that. But what is this question?”

Charles took a deep breath. “I want you to distract me. I need distraction.”

“What you need is sleep, darling. I need some too. There's only one bed though, and I don't own a sofa, so I hope you're okay with us sharing. If not, I'll sleep in the recliner.”

Charles looked over to what served as the living room and frowned. “Why don't you have a sofa?”

“Why have one? It's not like anyone ever comes here for something other than a fuck,” Sebastian said, pulling open his refrigerator. “Let's see. I have eggs. I have milk. Ooh, I have some slices of turkey that we could make sandwiches out of.”

Charles let out a small laugh. “Turkey sandwiches? Really?”

Sebastian pulled back and looked over at him. “Hey, a queen has to eat and those are cheap. And you still haven't asked me this question.”

Charles took another deep breath. “There's a specific method of distracting me that I thought you would probably be interested in. You'd get what you want out of it too.”

Sebastian studied him for a moment before tilting his head to the side. “You want me to fuck you, don't you?”

Charles nodded. “Please. I need distraction right now.”

“Oh, Charles,” Sebastian said, shutting the refrigerator and walking over to him. “This is a very bad idea.”

“No, it's not,” Charles said, reaching for Sebastian and pulling him close. “Please, Seb. Please.”

“Charles, I can distract you without fucking you. I think Erik would kill me if I fucked you right now.”

“Why are you so resistant to this? You always want to fuck me. I am giving you that chance.”

Sebastian sighed. “I want you to want it, darling. You don't really want it.”

“Yes, I motherfucking do,” Charles said angrily. “Motherfucking fuck me already.”

Sebastian brought his hands up to cup Charles's face. “Darling, listen to me. I can distract you without you making a mistake that you will regret because I know that you'll regret this. There is a reason you have never let me fuck you and that reason still exists. I suspect it has something to do with this motherfucker of a ex of yours, but since you won't really talk about him, I don't know for sure.”

“I don't have a motherfucking ex!” Charles yelled. “I had a motherfucking pimp!”

Sebastian stood there as Charles broke away, walking into the living room and collapsing down into the chair. “What?” he finally got out. “You were...”

“Not by choice,” Charles murmured, running his hands over his face. “I had no choice.”

Sebastian swallowed hard. “You were under the control of a pimp.”

“Yes,” Charles mumbled. “Now do you see why I don't want anyone to know? Between that and the fact that I'm Brian Xavier's son, everyone is going to fucking freak out and I can't handle it.”

“Brian Xavier's son?”

“Everyone always says Sharon Xavier's son but my mother was a fucking bitch and I hated her. My father was wonderful. If he hadn't died, none of this would have happened to me. But he did, so this did. If I was a bitter person, I'd blame him for everything. Instead, I just wish he was here to give me a hug.”

“Oh, Charles,” Sebastian said, walking over to him. “I'm so sorry, darling.”

“Don't be. I fucking deserved all of this.”

“How the fuck do you think you deserved this?” Sebastian asked, shocked. “I refuse to believe that you wanted any part of this and I highly doubt that you did anything to deserve it.”

“I'm a whore, Seb. This is what whores deserve. I wish that Cain had found me last night. At least then I'd be out of my misery.”

Sebastian crouched down next to the chair and frowned. “Cain was the pimp?”

Charles nodded. “He's a lousy motherfucker. Everything I ever told you about my ex was about him. Controlling as fuck, abusive, the one who got me hooked. All of it.” 

“You're going to talk to the cops about this asshole, right?” Sebastian said. “Because I will do whatever I have to do to help get this motherfucker in prison.”

Charles looked over at him. “Really?”

“Someone who treated you like that? You're fucking right I will. I've wanted to kill this motherfucking ex since our first real conversation.”

Charles let out a small laugh. “I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”

Sebastian smiled. “I'm being serious, you know.”

“I know you are,” Charles murmured. “Do you see why I need distraction right now?”

“Totally, darling. But I still think you'd regret it if I fucked you right now.”

Charles shook his head. “I didn't see this coming. I thought you'd jump at the chance.”

“I want to, trust me. But I'd also like to live, and I know that everyone would kill me if I fucked you right now,” Sebastian said. “Now, if we get through all of this and then you want to fuck, I'll totally do that whether Erik and everyone else likes it or not. But not now.”

Charles swallowed hard. “Does this change what you think about me?” he asked quietly.

“Not in the way you're thinking,” Sebastian said, reaching out and squeezing Charles's knee. “It makes me appreciate you more. You've got to be one hell of a strong person to have been in that situation and come out the other side still surviving. I don't know how you ended up being one of Erik's pet projects, but I'm really glad that you did.”

Charles sucked in a deep breath and went to speak, but a sob escaped him instead. Sebastian stood and pulled Charles up into his arms, holding him close as Charles started sobbing into his shoulder. “Shh, darling. It's okay. It's all going to be okay.”

Sebastian slowly walked them over to his bed and helped Charles lay down, wrapping him up in his arms again once he joined him. Charles buried his head in Sebastian's neck as he cried, and Sebastian just pulled him closer, wanting to give as much comfort as he could. 

Sebastian wanted to kill the motherfucker of an ex before, but his blood was boiling about the fact that this guy existed now. So whatever support Charles needed, Charles would get. He was entirely capable of doing that, no matter what anyone said. Sebastian might have the reputation of caring about very little beyond who he could fuck next, but there was a lot more to him than that.

Maybe it was just time to show everyone else that.

**********

Erik slowly blinked his eyes open, glancing around to see where he was. He deduced after a moment that he was in a hospital room, and then what had happened hit him. The first thought he had after that was about Charles, and he prayed to a deity he didn't really believe in that Charles was safe. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he could find out, and then he would either be relieved or devastated. 

He should be concerned with how he was too, but that was secondary to Charles.

A nurse walked up to his bedside after a moment, and she smiled down at him. “Mr. Lehnsherr. It's good to see you awake.”

Erik tried to speak but found that he couldn't, and the nurse just kept smiling. “You have a breathing tube down your throat. That's why you can't talk.”

Erik nodded and found that made his head really hurt, so he decided he wouldn't do that again. He tried to lift his arm and found that hurt considerably less, so he waved it around a little to try to convey what he wanted. The nurse's smile was a permanent fixture, he thought, because it stayed there yet again. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I'll get the doctor in here soon to answer them, but first, would you like to see your girlfriend?”

Girlfriend? It took him a moment to realize that she must be referring to Jean, and then he was waving his arm around again. He was more certain than ever that the nurse's mouth was permanently fixed in that position because he was starting to be extremely annoyed by the fact that she was smiling. There was absolutely nothing to smile about.

“I'll get her in here then,” the nurse said, turning her attention to the monitor next to him and pulling a notepad out of her pocket. She wrote down a couple of things and then turned back to Erik, that fucking smile still on her face. “She'll be here in a few minutes, okay?”

She walked away before Erik could think about that smile any more, and he glanced around the room again. No television that he could see, slate gray walls, and by the time he heard the door open again, he'd counted twenty-seven ceiling tiles. He looked to his right to see Jean sit down next to him, and she had tears in her eyes as she reached out and took his hand in hers. 

“Erik, it is so good to see you awake,” Jean said, giving him a smile that was more genuine than the nurse's had been. “We've all been so worried.”

Erik tried to use his other arm to wave around, but found that hurt considerably more, so he squeezed her hand instead. He could tell that she immediately knew what he was asking, and felt relief flow through him at her words.

“Charles is fine.”

Erik let his eyes close for a second before squeezing her hand again, prompting her to continue.

“Scott's fine too. He'll be in the hospital for a few days because they had to operate on his shoulder and he's got a nasty concussion, but he'll be fine. He's having visitors already and everything.”

Relief flowed through him again, and he squeezed her hand once more.

“Hank said the business is closed until further notice, and he said that you're not allowed to argue with him about that. No one has clearance to go into the building yet, so Peter went home with Kitty and Charles left with Sebastian a couple of hours ago.”

Erik became alarmed when he heard where Charles went, but Jean soothed it immediately. “Sebastian is being supportive. He's been very worried about Charles, and he has good right to be because Charles is a mess. But I think he's intelligent enough to know that Charles didn't go home with him so Sebastian could fuck him. He assured Hank that he knew better than that.”

Erik rolled his eyes at that, making Jean laugh. “I've never seen Sebastian like this, to be honest. I think he has some genuine affection towards Charles. I also know that Charles is prepared to punch him should Sebastian do something that he doesn't want. Charles assured me of that before they left.”

Erik nodded without thinking about it, groaning when that made pain explode behind his eyes. Jean squeezed his hand and gave him a worried smile. “You've got a pretty nasty concussion yourself, along with a couple of broken bones in your left leg. I'll let the doctor get into all of what happened with the gunshot wounds in your stomach though. I can tell you that you're going to make a full recovery, though it might be a longer one than you will want.”

Erik squeezed her hand again, so Jean kept talking. “Darwin and Alex are staying in the hotel room you got them. They aren't going anywhere where he might find them. But between Hank and I, we've convinced both of them and Charles to speak with the police. I've been in touch with the detective, and Ororo has been called in for the case. She'll get what they need out of them and then the police will go arrest that motherfucker.”

Erik let go of her hand and lifted his arm, waving it around a little. “Yes, I know about what that motherfucker was making Charles do. Hank told me after Charles gave his permission. I want this guy to rot in prison for the rest of his life. I've already promised all three of them my legal services for free until all of this is settled. Charles is terrified that they're going to arrest him and my assurances that it won't happen aren't helping to alleviate that fear.”

Jean didn't wait for Erik to prompt her to continue. “I will give you all the updates I get on it, I promise. The meeting between Charles and Ororo is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to be there for that, so I'm going to get them to give Hank updates on your condition. That way everyone else can stay informed.”

Erik managed to nod slightly without feeling like someone took a power drill to his skull, and Jean gave him another smile. “You get some rest, okay? I need to go tell everyone that you're awake. I'll be back soon, I promise.”

Erik watched as she stood up, brushing a kiss along his forehead before walking away. He closed his eyes after that, relieved that everyone else was alright, but so, so scared for what this was going to mean for Charles. He'd been making progress in getting Charles to realize he had some value, and now he was worried that having to relive everything was going to set him back to how he had been that very first night. 

Before he could think about it much more, sleep claimed him.

**********

Emma stumbled into the kitchen and froze when she saw Moira at the stove, immediately going from half-asleep to wide awake. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Moira jumped, startled, and tilted the frying pan up, showing Emma the eggs inside. “Making myself some dinner?”

“Right,” Emma said softly, staggering over to the table and collapsing into one of the chairs. “Sorry.”

Moira shook her head and grabbed a cup, pouring some of the coffee she'd just made into it before bringing it over to Emma. “Do you want me to make you some?”

“You don't have to cook and clean while you're here,” Emma said, sliding the coffee closer to her and bringing it up to her lips. “I noticed that the television doesn't have a layer of dust sitting on it anymore.”

Moira smiled as she turned back to the stove. “You always used to be so uptight about things being dusty that I thought I'd clean it for you.”

“Yeah, well, I used to be that way about a lot of things,” Emma said, leaning back in the chair. 

“I liked you that way,” Moira said, transferring the cooked eggs to her plate and moving to sit across the table from Emma.

“You hated me that way,” Emma laughed, taking another sip from her coffee. “You used to lay on the sofa and curse me a million different ways whenever I tried to make you do something.”

“I hated you because I was high and all I wanted was to lay around and be fucked up for a while,” Moira said, taking a bite of the eggs. “I liked you that way when I was sober, which admittedly wasn't very often, because it helped keep me from laying around wishing I was fucked up. It's the times when I was fucked up that you remember, and it's the times when I wasn't that I do. Those times are part of the reason why I'm still alive. The rest of it is you.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Emma set her cup down. “I wanted to kill you when I left home, you know that?”

“Yes,” Moira said, pushing her plate towards the middle of the table. “I spent that entire week wishing that you would have because I was too damn scared to do it myself.”

Emma stood and picked up Moira's plate, walking over to the sink and putting it inside. “I am glad that you're clean, Moira, even if I suck at properly admitting it.”

Moira stood up and walked over to Emma, pulling her close and giving her a short, gentle kiss. “I know, Emmie. I know.”

Emma stared at her for a moment before breaking away and heading back to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Moira slumped against the counter for a moment before taking a deep breath, grabbing her purse off the table, and heading out.

**********

“Why the fuck would I leave you for Piotr?” John asked, kicking at the bed and glaring at Bobby. “Fucking hell, baby, that's a case of been there, done that, want you instead.”

Bobby huffed and threw a pillow at him. “Look, you wanted to know what I was really upset about, and so I told you. I already knew you fucked around on me a lot when we were still in Los Angeles.”

“Before things got serious between us, yes,” John said, picking up the pillow and throwing it back at him. “But you're the one who has apparently done the cheating since we decided that fucking around on each other would be cheating.”

“It was Artie and you knew about it,” Bobby said, grabbing the pillow and shoving it behind his head. “I fucking told you about it.”

“Ah, but you left out the most important detail about what it was you and Artie did that night, didn't you?” John sighed heavily and collapsed onto the bed. “You fucked Artie, I fucked Piotr. We should just call ourselves even and be done with this. You know it's not going to happen again.”

Bobby stayed silent and John turned to look at him, his hands gripping the bedspread tightly. “Bobby, you know it will never happen again, right?”

“I'd like to think I do, yes,” Bobby said, closing his eyes and refusing to meet John's gaze. “It's just...I thought we left all of that behind in LA, and now to have Piotr here, and to find out that he's one of your past lovers, I have doubt in my mind that I don't want there.”

John sighed and flipped over, crawling towards the head of the bed and setting down next to Bobby's side, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. “There's no need to doubt me, baby. I won't say there's no reason, because I've given you more than enough reason to doubt me before, but I thought I'd proved to you that there was no need for it.”

Bobby took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, snuggling closer to John. “You have. You think I'd let you be around all those horny go-go boys if you hadn't?”

“So I can be around the go-gos but not Piotr?” John laughed, wrapping his arms around Bobby.

“Shut up.” Bobby pushed at him playfully. “It's going to take me some time to get comfortable with this, Johnny.”

“And I will give you all the time you need, baby,” John said, bending down to kiss him softly. “It's hell when you're not around, you know that?”

Bobby started to say something but was interrupted by a knock at the door, Doug's voice drifting through. “It sounds like you two are almost to the makeup sex, so I'm going to go find a restaurant and stay far, far away for a few hours.”

Bobby buried his face in John's neck as John laughed. “What, you don't want to listen through the door?”

“I've done that enough with you, Allerdyce. I don't need to hear it again,” Doug called out. “I'll see you stupid motherfuckers later.”

Bobby looked up when he heard the apartment's door close, sliding his hands up to John's collar and pulling at the buttons. “I don't like this shirt on you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” John asked, looking down at the shirt. “You bought this for me.”

“I didn't say I didn't like it. I said I didn't like it on you,” Bobby grinned. “It looks much better on the floor.”

John laughed and sat up, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor. “You mean like that?”

“Yes, exactly,” Bobby said, smiling at him. “You know what else I think looks better on the floor? Your pants.”

John reached for his belt and undid the buckle before bending down and giving Bobby a deep kiss. “I think your clothes would look pretty damn good on the floor too.”

“I say we test out that theory then.” Bobby reached for the end of his t-shirt and started to pull it off. “And then you can fuck me senseless.”

John groaned and pulled Bobby close, ripping his t-shirt the rest of the way off and kissing him fiercely. “That's a fucking brilliant idea, baby.”


	22. Chapter 22

Jean had been shown pictures of Scott's younger brother before, generally on nights when Scott was drunk enough to talk about him because he usually never talked about him otherwise. Alex had come to New York City to study and Scott had come with him on his parents' request, wanting to have the older son look after the younger since the younger would be so far from home. It was halfway through his second semester at Fordham that Alex had disappeared without a trace and, according to Erik, Scott had been a mess ever since. 

Scott had gotten a job at Station Thirty a few months before, and from the little bit that Scott had said, it sounded like Erik had held him together when it happened. Scott wanted nothing more than to find his brother, and he was frustrated beyond belief when the police seemed to stop making finding Alex a priority. So, Erik had promised him that they would find Alex together, and they'd tried, but it was hard to find him when they didn't even know where to start.

When Scott entered rehab, Erik had told her the depths that Scott had gone to in an attempt to mask his pain, and Jean couldn't help but think about all the ways she could have helped him. She couldn't magically make Alex appear, but as a lawyer, she knew of people that would be very helpful in the attempt to find him. Scott had always been so reluctant to talk about him that she had never broached the subject, but now she couldn't believe what had literally just fallen into her lap. 

Because when Jean carefully led Charles into Ororo's office, a young man on the other side of the room caught her eye. He was standing next to Darwin and they were speaking to each other with low voices, and he looked familiar but she couldn't place him. Then Charles spoke and it clicked.

“Darwin. Alex. I'm so glad to see you two.”

Alex Summers was standing right in front of her.

She took a moment to ponder that before the fact that Charles knew who he was entered her mind, and she closed her eyes when she realized that the Alex Charles had been talking about was the Alex that Scott had always told her about. Before she could say anything about it, she heard her name called out and turned to find Ororo standing in the doorway. “Ororo.”

“Do you mind if just you and I spoke first?” Ororo asked, smiling at Charles. “And don't worry, there's no one here but the five of us. Not even my secretary is here.”

Charles looked relieved when she said that, so Jean squeezed his shoulder gently before walking towards Ororo. They went into her office and the moment that the door was shut, Jean ran her hands over her face. “Oh my God.”

“Oh my God what?” Ororo asked, motioning to one of the chairs. “I wanted to ask you about this situation before I hear it from them. I always try to get a little bit of a background so that I know where to go with the conversation.”

“Alex,” Jean murmured. “I know who he is.”

“The Alex that is in the waiting room?” Ororo asked as Jean sat down. “You know him?”

“Not personally. I've never met him before, only seen his picture and heard some about him,” Jean said, taking a deep breath. “Did you get their full names yet?”

“The other two? Yes. Charles? No.”

“Alex's last name is Summers, isn't it?”

Ororo reached for her notes and glanced through them. “Yes, it is. How did you...” Ororo trailed off as it hit her. “He's Scott's brother.”

“He has to be,” Jean murmured. “He looks almost exactly like the pictures I've seen. Longer hair, a lot thinner, but him.”

Ororo tapped her pen against her notes and sighed. “That might make things easier. It might also make things harder.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that informing him that we know the whereabouts of his brother might be an emotional balm to everything that has happened. If he knows that Scott has been looking for him, it might help to soothe some of the pain and the shame that he no doubt feels. It also could mean that the shame deepens and he wants nothing to do with Scott, which will make reintegrating him into society and the family he has even harder. So for now, I'm not going to mention Scott to him in anything more than broad terms as one of the victims of the attack at the restaurant.”

Jean nodded. “That's probably a good idea. Can I tell Scott that we've found him though? It's something he should know.”

“Not until I tell you, because from what I know of Scott, he'll be banging down the doors to get to him.” Ororo shook her head. “How on earth did Alex ever get mixed up with this guy?”

“I don't know, but that's something you can find out for us. I get the feeling they all have a horror story to tell you. I know Charles does.”

Ororo nodded. “I don't doubt that. You mentioned on the phone that Charles is terrified of all of this becoming public. I see no need for any of this to become public before the trial. No one knows who these guys are.”

“Charles is Brian and Sharon Xavier's son. Their only child.”

Ororo closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair. “Fuck.”

“Exactly. Even though both his parents are dead now, he's terrified of this becoming public because he knows that the media is just waiting for him to step out of the shadows and take his place as the public face of the Xavier family. According to Charles, he's the only living member of the family left with the last name Xavier and everyone else are distant relations.”

“This is why he doesn't want to be face to face with an officer, isn't it?”

“Most likely. I think he's afraid of an officer selling him out on top of the fact that he's convinced that he's going to be arrested.”

“There is absolutely no reason for him to be arrested, and even if there was, it wouldn't happen. Based upon what you said to the detectives, they've informed the district attorney of what's going on. Those three already have immunity. They can't be prosecuted for anything because of their cooperation in getting this guy off the streets.”

“I think that Charles will be very relieved to hear that,” Jean said. “And I told you everything that I know over the phone. Charles wasn't really all that forthcoming with details and I'm kind of glad about that. I really don't want to know more about what this guy did to him than I already do.”

“I can understand that. Do you think he's worried that I'm going to tell you everything that he says?”

“Probably.”

“Then the first thing I will do is assure him that everything he says within this room stays between us until such time that the police need to be informed of details,” Ororo said, setting her notes to the side. “And I think that we should probably start.”

Jean nodded and stood, running a hand through her hair. “Charles has become incredibly attached to Erik and he is not handling all of this well.”

“I imagine not. Don't worry, Jean. He's in good hands.”

Jean smiled. “The very best.”

“Alright, let's go out to the waiting room and get them. You can wait there while the four of us have a conversation.”

“I can do that.”

**********

Erik looked to his right to see Hank sit down next to him, and he smiled as best he could. “Hi,” he said, his voice still low and scratchy. The breathing tube had come out a couple of hours earlier, and Erik was happy that he was capable of actually communicating with people again.

“So you can talk now.”

“I can talk now,” Erik said, coughing slightly. “But my throat is still really dry and scratchy.”

“Do you want some water?” Hank asked, motioning to the table in front of him. 

“That would be nice,” Erik got out, and Hank stood and got Erik the bottle of water that was there. 

Hank held the bottle and bent the straw so Erik could take a drink, and when Erik pushed it away, Hank smiled. “Better?”

“Much,” Erik said, watching as Hank sat down again. “Please tell me that everyone has gone home.”

“Everyone has gone home as you requested. They are fully expecting to be able to see you tomorrow though. They were so jealous of Peter.”

Erik let out a small laugh before he realized how much that hurt. “I can only imagine what those bitches said to him.”

“Don't worry. Peter gave back as good as he got.”

“Good,” Erik murmured. “Have you heard from Jean yet?”

Hank nodded. “Charles went in with Ororo about an hour ago. She has no idea how long this is going to take.”

“I really hope this isn't too hard on him. I'm so worried about what this is going to do to him.”

“I think it will probably be better for him to do this than to not. He can't just hold all of this inside for the rest of his life.”

“I think he would have tried to. He wouldn't even consider therapy when I brought it up.”

“I'd say that surprises me but it doesn't.” Hank leaned back in his seat and ran his hands over his face. “So I hear you're angry with me.”

“The restaurant doesn't need to be closed, Hank.”

“Well, considering that you have a staff that wants to be nowhere but here, yes it does,” Hank said. “You are the one who authorized me, Scott, and Bobby to make decisions on your behalf if you were unable to, and I made a fucking decision so deal with it.”

“I want the restaurant back open as soon as possible,” Erik said firmly. “And I want everyone back to work as soon as possible. I don't want them hanging around a hospital all day so they can see me for five fucking minutes.”

“I'll relay the message, but that's not going to happen any time soon and you know it. Everyone is worried about you and with good reason. You nearly died.”

“I thought I was going to,” Erik said softly. “I was so glad to hear that no one besides me and Scott were hurt. I was laying there thinking that he could have gone down to the club hunting for Charles and done god knows what.”

“I think it's highly likely that he searched the club for Charles. Thankfully, Charles was locked up in the apartment, and anyone that doesn't know that's an apartment thinks it's little more than a likely empty attic.”

“How is he, Hank? And I mean really, not this vague bullshit that everyone has been saying.”

Hank sighed heavily. “He's in withdrawal because all of his drugs are at the restaurant and we can't get in there. He'd like to be drunk all the time because he can't get high but he can't be that either. Sebastian wouldn't even let him get drunk at his apartment last night. Charles said he's staying with Sebastian again tonight, by the way, and from the way that they're acting, I don't think they've fucked either.”

“That makes me feel better,” Erik said. “I would absolutely kill Sebastian if he took advantage of Charles in this state.”

“I think that perhaps Sebastian deserves a little bit more credit than we give him. I mean, he is extremely shallow and can't hold down a job that doesn't involve him shaking his ass for drunk queens, but John has said before that he doesn't think anyone knows the real Sebastian except for Emma, and Emma just doesn't say anything about it.”

“I don't know about that,” Erik said, rolling his eyes. “Sebastian has done nothing to make me think that any of that is true.”

“Well, maybe this situation will give him the opportunity to show that side of him because I really do think he's just trying to care for Charles as best as he can. Especially now that he knows.”

Erik gave Hank a strange look. “What?”

“Charles mentioned to me that Sebastian knew everything while he was here this morning,” Hank said. “He told Sebastian last night.”

“And that hasn't become public knowledge yet?”

“No, it hasn't. Sebastian really is being supportive, Erik. I know that you think it's not possible, but it's the truth.”

Erik sighed. “Perhaps. But I will feel a lot better when I know Charles is sleeping in his room at the apartment instead of wherever it is he's sleeping at Sebastian's.”

“I think we all will feel better once things get back to normal,” Hank said honestly. “And I know part of that is reopening the restaurant, but that is not happening until this guy is in custody. If he sees that the place is open, he'll come back to try again. I'm sure he has a watch on it.”

“You're probably right about that,” Erik murmured. “Alright, fine, the place is closed. Keep everyone away from there until the motherfucker is arrested. But once that happens, I want the place open and everyone back to work as soon as possible.”

“It will be, Erik. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Erik said, closing his eyes. “I heard you called Raven.”

“I did,” Hank said, sighing heavily. “I thought she might want to come see you, but then she told me where she was and that's not possible.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means she's in fucking Los Angeles again,” Hank said bitterly. “I knew that story she fed Vanessa was bullshit. There was no way that she was going to give up eternal sunshine to come back here. She wanted it too much.”

“Hank,” Erik said softly, “it was her choice.”

“I know it was. Doesn't mean I'm over it yet.” Hank ran his hands over his face. “In any case, she said she'd come by to see you the next time she comes back to New York, but she's not planning on doing that any time soon. She made that extremely clear.”

“What the fuck did she come back here for then?”

“She had to take care of things and finish getting her shit out of her apartment so she could ship it across the country, bullshit like that. She just spun some shows while she was in town.”

“And that took her two months?”

“Apparently. We didn't really get into detail on all of that. She was more concerned with you than anything I had to say about something else.”

Erik reached out and Hank grasped his hand. “Listen to me, Henry. If she wants to act like a stone cold bitch, then you are better off without her.”

“I know, I know,” Hank said, squeezing Erik's hand before letting go. “I'm working on it.”

“Good,” Erik said, yawning. “Fuck, I'm so tired.”

“I would think so.”

“I'm just laying in a bed.”

“Erik, you're seriously injured. Your body is healing itself and that takes away your energy so you sleep a lot.”

Erik let his eyes close. “I know you're right. It's just frustrating.”

“I imagine so. But let yourself sleep.”

“Fine, fine,” Erik murmured. “Leave me in peace then.”

“I will do so,” Hank said, standing up. “I'll go see Scott for a while. He constantly wants to know how you're doing.”

“Tell him that I say hello.”

“Will do. Get some rest. You'll no doubt have a cavalcade of visitors again when you wake up, because I'm sure they'll all be back soon.”

“Of course they will,” Erik muttered. “Can't leave me alone.”

“You nearly died, Erik. It'll be a while before you're left alone.”

“Get the fuck out of here and let me sleep,” Erik growled.

“I'm just telling you the truth, but I'm going, I'm going.”

“Right now, Hank, I don't want to hear the truth.”


	23. Chapter 23

“Mr. Lehnsherr? Are you awake?”

Erik opened his eyes to see a woman in a white lab coat standing at the end of his bed, stethoscope around her neck. It took him a moment but he realized that she was another doctor. “Call me Erik, please.”

“Erik then,” the woman said. “My name is Alison Blaire and I'm here to talk to you about something we picked up on when we analyzed your blood and we believe that you may be unaware of it.”

“Is it something that's going to get me out of here faster?” Erik asked. “Three days and I feel like I'm losing my mind.”

“I'm afraid you're not ready for discharge yet.” Alison paused for a moment. “When was the last time you had an HIV test, Erik?”

“Oh, fuck, I don't know. A decade, maybe? Maybe longer.”

“And you haven't felt there was a reason to have another?”

“Probably should have with as many guys that I've fucked, but I've been entirely too busy for that. Why?”

“Hospital procedure is to perform an HIV test on every blood same we receive and we've gotten your results.”

Erik was quiet for a moment and then sucked in a sharp breath. “You wouldn't be talking to me if they were negative, would you?”

“No, I would not,” Alison said softly. “The results did come back positive so now we need to talk about the next steps.”

Erik half listened as Alison started talking about doctors' visits and medicine cocktails, but his mind was reeling. When? Who? How? The questions were ones that would always plague his mind because he would never have the answers. Then again, he'd only bottomed for a few and he could swear that even when he hadn't, they'd always used condoms. 

But apparently not.

“We have not informed your emergency contact since you are now awake,” Alison said as the door opened and Jubilee walked into the room. “I'll leave you that up to you. I'll be back later to discuss this more.”

Jubilee looked between them for a moment. “I can come back.”

“No,” Erik said, shaking his head. “Stay.”

Alison nodded and walked out of the room, so Jubilee walked over to the chair. “What's that all about?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Jubilee studied him for a moment. “Erik, you look atrocious. You clearly need to talk about it.”

Erik stared at her for a moment before sighing, knowing that she was right. “And I suppose I should do that with you, hm?”

“I'm the one that's here.”

Erik stayed quiet for a while before he spoke. “Not a word about any of this, okay? Not even to Theresa. If I find out that you've told anyone this, I'll fire you both and kick you two out of my life forever.”

Jubilee's eyes widened and she reached for Erik's hand. “I won't say a thing. I swear.”

Erik took a couple of deep breaths. “They just told me that I'm positive,” he said softly. “And I'm kind of freaking out about it.”

“Oh, honey,” Jubilee said, squeezing his hand. “I don't blame you for freaking out, but it's going to be okay.”

“I just got a death sentence so I don't see how that is possible,” Erik got out, swallowing hard. “I meant what I said about not telling anyone.”

“I won't say a thing, I promise. You should be the one to tell everyone.”

“I don't know if I can do that.”

“You need to, baby.”

“I know you're right but I really don't want to. I'm afraid of how everyone will treat me.”

“Everyone will love you even more,” Jubilee said seriously. “No one is going to think any differently because of this.”

“I'm glad you're so sure of that,” Erik said, running his free hand over his face. “Fuck.”

“Do you have any idea how?” Jubilee asked carefully.

“No. Maybe when I think about it more, it'll come to me, but right now I don't.” Erik forced himself to take another deep breath. “Fuck, Jubes. I don't know if I can handle this.”

“You have to handle it, honey. And whatever it is I need to do to help you handle it, I will. I promise.”

Erik looked over at her and gave Jubilee a shaky smile. “Thanks, baby. I really appreciate that. Now talk to me about something else.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” Jubilee said, leaning back in the chair. “We've all been trying to convince Charles that you really do want to see him but he won't listen to us. And we're all trying to convince him, Darwin, and Alex to give up the location of this motherfucker but so far none of them will.”

“What? Why won't they give it up?”

“According to Darwin, they're too afraid of retribution,” Jubilee said, shaking her head. “They think that he's going to come up with some sort of way to finish them off.”

“Has Charles told you anything about him?” Erik asked carefully.

Jubilee nodded. “After they had their meeting with Ororo, Charles and Darwin started telling everyone what they went through. Well, mostly Darwin. Charles is kind of having trouble speaking about anything at the moment. Jean said Ororo told her that's natural. Charles has a whole lot more on his mind than just this motherfucker. He's told everyone that he's a Xavier too.”

“I'm surprised about that. I really thought I'd have to be the one to convince him to tell everyone what was really going on.”

“I think Hank and Jean have got him to realize that he needs to do this to help you. He can't be talking to the police about this guy and then refusing to tell any of us about it.”

Erik sighed. “I really do want to talk to him, Jubes. I want him to know that things are going to be okay. I can't imagine what he's thinking right now.”

Jubilee tilted her head to the side. “You really like him, don't you?”

“Of course I like him. Everyone likes him.”

“That's not the kind of liking him that I mean.”

Erik sighed again. “Jubes, come on.”

“No, you come on. Tell me the truth.”

Erik was quiet for a few moments. “Of everyone that I've met in the past year, he's the one I'd be most interested in. But as you now know, there's a lot of work that needs to be done before he can even contemplate being in a relationship with anyone, and I'm not about to ruin that for him.”

“I can understand that,” Jubilee said, going to speak but the door of the room opened and doctors came in, so she squeezed Erik's hand. “I'm going to go back to the waiting room, okay? I'll try to talk Charles into being your next visitor.”

“Thanks, Jubes,” Erik said as she stood. “And I meant what I said about you not saying anything, you gossip queen.”

“I gossip about a lot of stuff,” Jubilee said as she walked away. “I'd never gossip about something like this. I'll be back later to see how you're doing. Try not to freak out as much.”

“Easy for you to say!”

“Easy for you to do too!”

**********

“Bobby wants me to broach this subject gently, but that's not me and that's not how we talk to each other,” John said, reaching for the last of his fries. “Doug, why the fuck haven't you gone home yet?”

Doug sighed and leaned back in his chair, tossing his napkin onto the table. “I was wondering when this was going to come up.”

“You told Bobby you cashed in vacation days. How many motherfucking vacation days are we talking about here?”

“Let's call them permanent vacation days, shall we?” Doug said, looking across the table at John. “They outsourced my job to fucking Pakistan or something like that. Whatever the case, I don't motherfucking have it anymore.”

John's eyes widened. “And when the fuck were you planning on mentioning that?”

“When I found a way of asking if I could stay with you two while I got myself back on my feet,” Doug said, sighing heavily. “I'm not going to find another job in Los Angeles, Johnny. I've been trying for three months.”

“Three months?” John asked, incredulous. “You fucking kept this to yourself for three fucking months?”

“Piotr knew,” Doug said quietly. “I just asked him not to say anything to you.”

“And what the fuck is so wrong with me knowing that my best friend needs some help?”

Doug sighed again. “Well, maybe I didn't want my best friend knowing that I got fired, alright?”

John pushed his chair back and stood up, glancing around the place for a trash can. “I've got to get to the dance studio. The boys are learning a new number today and we're auditioning a few new ones too.”

“Can I come along? Maybe inspiration will strike watching those gorgeous twinks you've got dancing for you.”

John grabbed Doug's elbow as he stood up, shoving his chair back towards the table. “So long as it means that you're going to let Bobby and me frame more of those naughty drawings of yours and put them on the walls.”

Doug laughed. “Piotr suggested that I make that my new career. An erotic artist, I believe he called it.”

John shoved his empty cup into the trash can and spun around, a huge grin on his face. “That is a fucking brilliant idea. You're good enough.”

Doug rolled his eyes and followed John out of the restaurant. “I draw stupid caricatures of guys fucking. That's not art.”

“Anything can be art, Ramsey,” John said, heading towards the nearest station. “It's all in the eye of the beholder. And you need to ask Sebastian to pose for you while you're here today. I'd love to have a really good drawing of him on the poster.”

“I will ask him then,” Doug said, falling into step beside him. “You really think that I should pursue this art thing?”

“I think I know of a gallery in town that exhibits stuff like you draw. You're going to go talk to them about an exhibition.”

“I don't know about that.”

“You have enough of those drawings that you could display them in a gallery?”

Doug reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “Hundreds. I've been doing a lot of them in the past three months.”

“Then you need to put some of them together and go try to get yourself an exhibition,” John said seriously. “Because as I said, you're good enough.”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

“You'll believe Bobby when he tells you it is.”

“You're awful convinced that he's going to agree with you.”

“He's going to, trust me,” John said, looking over at him. “And Doug, seriously, don't keep shit like this from me. If you need my help, then you need my help. There have been plenty of times when you've helped me out.”

Doug shook his head. “Yeah, well, I was trying to figure out a way to stay in California. I am not at all liking this cold weather.”

“Better get used to it, California boy,” John laughed. “And it's not even snowing! You'll probably die the first time you've got to walk through a snowstorm.”

Doug shoved him as they reached the steps of the station. “Fuck off.”

John laughed even more. “Come on. We need to get to the studio before the choreographer gets there.”

“Choreographer? You really have gone all in on this, haven't you?”

John shrugged. “The more polished the boys are, the more shows get requested, the more money I make. It's worth it.”

“Then I can't wait to see what this choreographer has cooked up. I still haven't seen your show since I got here.”

“Well, you're just going to have to come to tomorrow night's show on Staten Island then.”

Doug grinned. “Sounds great so long as you're buying the booze. I'm not sure that I can afford a drink at the moment.”

“I suppose I can do that out of charity.”

“See, this is why I didn't want to tell you.”

“It was a joke.”

“It's not fucking funny.”

John just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Come on. Hopefully we don't have to wait too long for the train.”

**********

Erik's eyes were closed as he walked into the room, and Charles almost turned around and left. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to do this, but everyone else was refusing to visit Erik until Charles did, and it had been nearly two days since Erik had seen anyone but Jean because of it. So Charles had broken down and said he'd go in there, but he really wasn't prepared to be told that he was being kicked out of everyone's lives. 

He needed everyone too much.

Charles froze in place when Erik's eyes opened, but he was confused by the smile that crossed Erik's face. “Charles.”

“Hi,” Charles said meekly, ducking his head down.

“Come here,” Erik said, reaching out his hand.

Charles walked over to the bed and sat down in the chair, refusing to look up. “I'm sorry.”

“There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Charles,” Erik said, nodding when Charles looked up. “I'm not angry.”

“You should be.”

“Maybe. But I'm not.”

Charles sucked in a deep breath. “I went over to the hotel last night with Sebastian, and then Sebastian went to work and I stayed there for the night. Darwin, Alex, and I had a very long talk about what to do, and this morning we called the detective and gave up Cain's location. They're going to plan a way to get him and free those that need to be freed.”

“Not everyone needs to be freed?”

“He has some lieutenants, I guess you could call them, that do his bidding. They take your money the second you walk back into the apartment and they beat the shit out of you if you didn't make as much as Cain thought you should have, and one of them even does examinations of you to make sure that you're prepared enough to go out there. Most of the tricks never bother with lube so Cain would always have him lube everyone up before they went out there.”

Erik felt his anger build. “So he has people sexually assaulting you on top of everything else? I know I keep saying this, but he's a lousy motherfucker.”

“It's not sexual assault,” Charles said quietly.

“Did the police call it sexual assault?”

“Maybe.”

“Then it's sexual assault,” Erik said firmly. “I am so glad that you talked to the police about all of this, Charles. I know that it had to be incredibly difficult for you. I've been so worried about how you are reacting to all of this.”

“I'm more worried about how you are.”

“Charles, I'm fine.”

“You almost died!” Charles exclaimed. “You almost died and it's all my fault and I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry.”

“Yes, I almost died,” Erik said calmly. “But that is not your fault. That is the fault of the man with the gun.”

“Cain wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me!”

“Perhaps. But I will never regret helping you, Charles. Ever.”

Charles felt tears build behind his eyes. “You should.”

“No,” Erik said softly. “No matter what happens from this moment on, I will never regret helping to get you away from this guy. And I really mean that.”

Charles swallowed hard and stood up. “I'll send someone else in.”

“I would prefer it if you stayed,” Erik said seriously. “This is the first time I've seen you in nearly a week.”

“Erik...”

“I want to talk to you, Charles. I want to know how your meetings with Ororo have been going. I want to hear about how you've been for the past few days. I want you to tell me how Sebastian is because if he's being a dick to you then I'm going to kill him once I'm out of this bed. I just want to talk to you.”

Charles stared at Erik for a moment before sitting back down. “Okay, I'll stay. And don't be mad at Sebastian. He's been great.”

“He's really not pressuring you into anything?”

“I asked him to fuck me as distraction and he wouldn't do it. And he isn't pressuring me into anything now either.”

Erik's eyes widened. “He wouldn't do it?”

“He wouldn't do it. I've been told that no one understands how he's being this way, but he's actually being really nice. Kitty said he's being sweet in a way that she didn't think was possible. Everyone but Emma is surprised, actually. She said she's always known that he's like this.”

Erik looked up when the door opened, and he reached out and grabbed Charles's hand before he could get up. “It's just the nurse, Charles. She'll be here for a minute or two and then leave.”

“That's right, sweetie,” the nurse said, smiling at Charles. “Don't feel like you need to leave just because of me.”

Charles nodded slightly. “Okay,” he murmured. “But I want to talk about something else. Something that doesn't really matter.”

“We can do that,” Erik said, smiling at him. “Just stay and talk to me for a while.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Then talk about whatever you want.”

Charles nodded. “Emma was telling me that someone named Angel is back and that she's going to cause trouble.”

“Angel is back in town?” Erik asked, surprised. “Tell me what you know and I'll tell you what Emma left out, because I know she's left a whole lot about that situation out. Angel Salvadore is a headache and a half.”


	24. Chapter 24

Erik opened his eyes when he heard the door open, and a smile crossed his face when he saw who was walking inside. “Scott. It's so good to see you.”

“It's pretty damn good to see you too,” Scott said, sitting down in the chair and adjusting his sling. “Fuck, I hate this thing.”

“Better to have that and still be breathing than not to be breathing at all,” Erik said, stretching as best he could without being in pain. “I'm trying to remind myself of that every time I get fucking sick and tired of laying in this fucking bed.”

“I heard you're getting out of here tomorrow. That's a good thing,” Scott said, smiling at Erik. “They're letting everyone back in the building now, so you'll be able to just go home.”

Erik let out a small laugh. “Good because I was not looking forward to figuring out where the fuck I could stay till they let me go home. I'm sure Peter and Charles are looking forward to it as well.”

“I think Charles is just wanting to shut himself away in the apartment and never leave. He's still terribly worried about what this guy could do to him.”

“I wish we knew if this guy was off the streets yet,” Erik sighed. “Jean said she's trying to get that information from the detective but that he isn't giving anything up yet.”

“It'll happen soon, I'm sure. They won't want this guy doing this shit for much longer.”

“You're probably right about that,” Erik said, and then they fell into silence for a few minutes.

“I don't regret it,” Scott finally said. “They would have killed you right then and there if I hadn't distracted this guy.”

“I think you're probably right about that,” Erik said, shaking his head. “And I owe you now.”

“No, you don't.”

“Yes, I do,” Erik said firmly. “I would be dead if it wasn't for you. I'm the reason you're injured right now. I owe you massively for that.”

"Charles thinks all of this is his fault," Scott murmured. "I've been trying to tell him that it isn't but he won't listen."

"I think it's going to be a long time before Charles realizes that it isn't his fault."

"I understand now," Scott said. "I understand why you wouldn't give him up. I didn't at the time, and I didn't when I thought that I was going to bleed out and die in the alley, but I understand now."

"I couldn't. I couldn't let that motherfucker kill him like I knew he would. Charles deserves so much better than that."

"I think it might be a long time before we can convince Charles of that. He seems to think that he deserves what the motherfucker would have done to him."

"That asshole destroyed Charles and we need to piece him back together. I'm just not sure how that's going to happen," Erik said, running his hands over his face. "Shit."

"I think that we can talk him into continuing to see Ororo," Scott said. "He was very comfortable with her, according to him, and he might be more open to seeing her again than you might think."

"That would be wonderful for him. I'll bring it up next time I see him." Erik paused for a moment. "You'll be good at running things at the restaurant, right?"

"I am more than happy to do your job for a while, Erik. You need to heal up and rest."

Erik swallowed hard. "I'm glad that I'm leaving it in capable hands."

"We're all more than capable and that's because you've taught us all well," Scott said, smiling at him. "You gave us all a purpose again, and I do not doubt that you're going to do the same with Charles. It might take some time, but he'll be an active member of society before we know it. Darwin and this Alex too."

"You still haven't met him?"

"No. Darwin said he's very, very skittish of being around people. Ororo told Jean he just needs some time and that we need to give him it."

"Well, when he's ready, he has a job at the restaurant," Erik said firmly. "I don't care if it means we have three waiters at the time of day when we only need one. He'll have a job."

"I'll pass that along to Hank and Bobby," Scott said, standing up when the door opened and a bunch of nurses came in. "I'm going to go home for a while. I'll probably not see you until you're out of here and back home."

"I do not want you at that apartment," Erik declared. "You're going to go to the restaurant."

"I'm not going to do anything but sleep," Scott said as he walked away. "I promise."

"I don't believe that!"

"Trust me a little, will you? I went through that shit once; I'm not doing it again."

"Fine, but I'm going to kill you if you're lying to me."

"I'm not!"

**********

Charles breathed a sigh of relief as he walked into the restaurant. Peter was behind him somewhere, Hank was talking about making some food provided everything hadn't spoiled, and Jean was on the phone with someone. But Charles didn't care about any of that. He just wanted to go up to the apartment, take a hit, and lay on the floor and forget about everything for a while.

"Charles," Jean said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "They got him."

Charles sank to the floor and ducked his head down, trying to blink away the tears that had instantly formed behind his eyes. But all the blinking did was make them fall, and he brought his hands up to his face and sobbed. After a moment, Charles felt arms gently wrap around him, and he turned and buried his face in Jean's neck, crying harder. In a way, this was just the beginning, but it was also the end of a torturous journey that Charles had thought he'd never be able to be free from.

The police had got him. Cain was off the streets. He wasn't going to hurt anyone anymore. He wasn't going to hurt Charles anymore.

Jean was murmuring soft words to him but Charles wasn't paying any attention to them, just concentrating on the fact that he was gone. But then Hank turned on the radio and Charles's head shot up at the sound of the news report.

_Police today arrested a thirty-four-year-old man on charges of attempted murder in connection with a shooting at the popular East Village diner Genosha. The man, identified as Cain Marko, was also charged with numerous things relating to what police are calling a sex slavery organization. Four others have also been apprehended. We will have more on this story as it develops._

Charles forced himself to take several deep breaths before looking over at Jean, smiling weakly. "It's real. They got him."

"They got him," Jean confirmed. "Him and everyone else that needed to be arrested. They're working right now to help the others. Ororo is going to be busy for a while."

Charles sucked in some more deep breaths as he noticed Hank and Peter watching him. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Hank asked, peering at him with concern. "Because we will do whatever we have to do to help you."

"Yeah, I don't know what that could be, but I'll do whatever you need," Peter said, drawing a smile out of Charles. "I'm serious."

"Peter, you're never serious," Charles laughed, looking over at Jean. "I really am okay. I promise."

"Alright," Jean said. "What do you need right now?"

"I need a hit and to lay on the floor," Charles said, taking another deep breath.

"You need to eat," Hank said seriously. "You've barely eaten anything since this went down."

"I'm not hungry."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Hank said. "Come on, let me make you something and then you can go up to the apartment."

Charles looked at Peter and Jean, realized they both agreed with Hank, and relented. "Fine, I'll eat something."

"Then I'll go see what is in the kitchen and make us something," Hank said, turning and disappearing through the door. 

Jean stood up when her phone began to ring again, glancing at it. "This is Scott. I need to tell him the news, and I need to call Erik's room as well. I'll be in the back."

Charles nodded and stayed on the floor, and a moment later, Peter came and sat down next to him. "I'm so sorry about all of this, Peter. I can't imagine what this has been like for you."

"It's sucked," Peter confirmed. "But it's nothing compared to what has been going on with you."

Charles sighed heavily. "Everything is my fault. Absolutely everything."

"I somehow doubt that."

Charles took a few moments. "My mother freaked out when I told her that I was gay," he said softly. "She was insistent that I was going to marry the girl she chose for me, and have an enormous amount of kids to carry on the Xavier family name. I didn't want that, so I left home and made my way here. I headed straight for the East Village because I thought this was where I would feel most at home. I'd only been here for three days before suddenly all my access to money was shut off. I was walking around one night in the dark, and then suddenly he was in front of me, and I just..."

"Hey," Peter said, making Charles look at him. "That's not your fault."

"It is too."

"Charles, it's really not," Peter said seriously. "He found you at a vulnerable moment and took advantage of you. That's not your fault. That's him being a lousy motherfucker. I can't believe some of the stuff Darwin has told me about this guy. Sex slavery indeed."

Charles took a moment before responding. "I never thought I'd be free of him. Even when your father saved me. I always knew that he'd come for me. And now, suddenly, he can't. I'm free. I don't know how to handle that."

"You'll figure it out," Peter said sincerely. "I do not doubt that."

"I'm starting to think that I actually will," Charles murmured. "But don't tell anyone that. I want to talk to Erik about it first."

"I won't say a thing. I promise."

They both looked up when the door opened, Scott walking into the restaurant. He hung up the phone the moment that he saw them, and Jean walked out of the back a moment later. "You brought the note?"

Scott nodded, walking over to Jean and handing it to her. "I don't have any idea where he went. The hospital has no  
clue. They just discharged him and he left this for whoever showed up looking for him."

Jean opened up the letter and sighed when she saw Erik's messy scrawl written across it. "I don't know who I am anymore and I need to find that out. I wish there were words to explain it better, but I can't seem to find them. I'll be back, I promise, but I don't know when. Everyone is supposed to answer to Scott while I'm gone, but I will understand if no one is there when I return. You deserve better than me. You always have. Erik."

"What?" Charles said in alarm. "What does that mean?"

"It means they discharged Erik and he's disappeared," Jean said, running a hand through her hair. "Fuck."

"I have no idea where he would have gone," Scott murmured. "His whole life is here."

"Well, we'll just have to find him then," Peter said. "Because he has to be somewhere close. He can't have gone that far."

Hank came out of the kitchen and saw the distress on everyone's faces. "What is it?"

Jean handed him the note when Hank walked over to them, and he cursed loudly when he read it. "Where the fuck could he have gone?"

"We have no idea," Scott said, glancing around. "But we're going to follow his instructions until he gets back."

Charles felt the tears well up again and he swallowed hard. "Why is he doing this?"

Jean walked over to him and sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around Charles and holding him close. "He just needs some time, Charles. He'll be back soon. Erik can't stay away from this place for too long."

"I hope you're right," Charles murmured. "I don't know what to do without him."

"You've still got all of us," Scott said, making Charles look at him. "And we're going to take care of you. Both of you."

Charles nodded as Peter spoke. "And we're going to find him."

"And we're going to find him," Scott confirmed. "Jean's right though. He can't stay away from here for too long."

Hank sighed heavily and shook his head. "Whatever this is about, he'll deal with it and come back. Erik's not the type to run away from his problems."

"No, he's not," Scott said, glancing up at the clock. "Do you think the kitchen has anything to eat in it? I'm starving."

"About all that I can tell is in there that isn't spoiled is pasta," Hank said honestly. "So if everyone is up for some fettuccine alfredo, I can make us dinner."

"That sounds great, Hank," Jean said.

"I'll help," Peter replied, standing up and walking towards Hank. "I can cook pasta without burning it."

Charles laughed. "I'd certainly hope so."

"Fuck off!" Peter called out as he walked with Hank into the kitchen. 

Scott pulled out a chair and sat down, adjusting the sling on his arm. "Well, I suppose we should get this place ready to be reopened."

Charles nodded. "I'll go grab the inventory sheets and we can figure out what we need to order."

"Charles, it's okay if you want to take time to just relax for a while," Jean said softly. "This has been a very traumatic experience for you."

"It's okay," Charles said, breaking away from Jean and standing up. "Besides, Erik would want me to do this."

"I think you're right about that," Scott said, "but I want you to only do this if you're sure because no one would have a problem if you took some time off."

Charles shook his head. "No, I need to do this. I need to figure out what a normal life would look like. This is part of it."

Scott nodded and Charles walked into the back, leaving Jean staring at him. "This isn't good."

"No," Jean answered as she stood up, "it's really not."

"Something is going on that he hasn't told anyone about. That's the only reason I can come up with for why he'd do this."

"I think you're right about that." Jean pulled out the chair next to Scott's and sat down. "We're going to have to watch Charles until we know where Erik is. He's so dependent on him that I'm worried that he's going to fall apart. He's barely holding it together as it is."

"Erik would want us to do that, so yes, we'll do that." Scott sighed heavily. "I can't believe he'd do this. He knows how worried we all are about him."

"I think that might be why he did this," Jean answered. "That reasoning makes sense to me. He hates it when everyone is concerned about how he's doing. He doesn't want to show any form of weakness to any of us because he feels like he always has to be strong for us."

"We're going to have to teach him that it's okay that he's human then," Scott said, shaking his head. "And I think we might need to teach Charles, Darwin, and Alex how to be human. Erik said Alex has a job here as soon as he is ready for one."

Jean thought about what she knew about Alex for a moment before remembering what Ororo had said about when to tell Scott. "That's great. I'm sure he'll appreciate that once it's time."

"I think so," Scott said, glancing over when Charles came out of the back with a notebook. "You really want to do this right now, Charles?"

"I need to think about something else for a while," Charles said, nodding. "If it's work, then it's work."

"Alright," Scott said, standing up. "Then let's go in the kitchen and see what needs to be reordered before we can open up again."


End file.
